THE  GAM 


Whaling  Stories 


Capt  CHAS.  H.  ROBBINS 


Vt  .  I . 


THE   GAM 


BEING  A  GROUP  OF  WHALING  STORIES 


BY 


CAPT.  CHARLES  HENRY  ROBBINS, 


REVISED  EDITION. 


tout)  Jlluatrattons. 


SALEM,  MASS.: 

^EWCOMB  &  GAUSS 

1913 


Copyright,  1899, 


NEWCOMB  &  GAUSS,  Printers 
Salem,  Mass. 


THE  WHALEMAN  STATUE. 
Gift   of  Hon.  William  W.  Crapo  to  the  city  of  New   Bedford. 


INTRODUCTION. 

I  HAVE  for  many  years  wondered  that  the  romantic  and 
exciting  experiences  of  the  whale  fishery  have  not  been 
preserved  more  often  in  records  in  our  literature.  Occa 
sionally  we  have  had  sketches  of  one  or  another  detail  in 
this  marvellous  adventure.  But  it  would  seem  as  if  the 
brave  men  who  engage  in  such  adventure  handle  harpoons 
more  willingly  than  they  handle  pens.  And  so  you  shall 
hear  many  a  story  of  such  adventure  told  by  men  who 
speak  of  what  they  have  seen,  while  you  do  not  read  one 
such  story.  I  was  very  glad,  therefore,  to  hear  that  Capt. 
Charles  H.  Robbins  had  put  to  paper  some  accounts  of  his 
own  earlier  experiences,  and  that  he  has  been  persuaded  to 
publish  them  ;  and  to  say  to  any  friend  of  mine  that  he 
may  place  confident  reliance  on  the  narrative  of  Capt. 
Bobbins,  as  being  that  of  one  who  tells  of  what  he  saw,  of 
which  indeed  he  was  much  himself. 

EDWAED  E.  HALE. 
EOXBUKY,  May  27,  1899. 


M62610 


PREFACE. 

No,  dear  reader,  the  writer  of  this  book  did  not  rush 
into  print  because  of  the  success  of  any  book  written  upon 
a  similar  subject.  For  years  Capt.  Bobbins  has  been 
putting  his  material  into  shape  ;  and,  imperfect  as  it  may 
be,  it  has  been  re-written  a  number  of  times.  The  manu 
script  was  ready  for  publication  five  years  ago,  but  was 
held  back  for  further  revision.  There  has  been  neither 
desire  nor  purpose  to  trade  upon  anybody  else's  popularity. 
"  The  Gam "  is  an  honest  effort  to  afford  entertainment 
and  instruction,  and,  judged  by  proper  standards,  it  justifies 
the  claims  made  for  it. 


CONTENTS. 

MAKING  A  MASTER j 

THE  FATTED  CALF      ....  7 

THAT  GREAT  LEVIATHAN 32 

MARQUESAS  ISLANDS   ....  51 

BEACH  COMBERS           ...  55 

BRINGING  MR.  TOWNS  END  BACK  AGAIN    ...  60 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  SAMOA         ....  76 

WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE     .  81 

EIGHT  WHALES 37 

HISTORIC  MUTINEERS            ...  89 

RUDDER  SIMPSON,  MYSELF  AND  THE   PERSONAGE  .     102 

WHALELAND  AND  ITS  CUSTOMS           .         .         .  .122 

THE  FROZEN  NORTH    .....  131 

THE  CAST-AWAY           ...  136 

THE  WHALEMAN  WHO  WENT  ON  THE  STAGE  .  .159 

"WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S" 168 

THE  GAM 182 

AUGUSTINE  BAY           .         .         .  195 

THE  ALBATROSS            ...                  .  205 

THE  CAPTAIN 228 

A  TYPICAL  WHALEMAN            .         .  239 


X  ILLUSTRATIONS— CONTINUED. 

JUNK  COMING  IN  AT  WAIST         .         .          .  .113 

HOISTING  ON  LOWER  JAW    ...  .121 

MINCING  THE  "BLUBBER"               ;                   .  •     129 
WHALESHIP  "YOUNG  PHOENIX"  BESET  IN  THE  ICE     137 
SHIPS  RECEIVING  CAPTAINS  AND  CREWS  OF  ABAN 
DONED  VESSELS           .         ,         >  .153 
"TRYING  OUT"     .         .         .                  .         .  .145 

A  CAPTAIN  IN  His  ARCTIC  OUTFIT       .         .  .       161 

THE    FIGHTING   WHALE       ,         *         .         »  »     169 

CLEANING  UP  AND  REPAIRING       .         .  .177 

THE  GAM  .         .         *•.'»•        •         •   -      •  .185 

NEW  BEDFORD  WHARF  OF  TODAY         .          .  .     195 

ST.   ELMO'S   FIRE 205 

LANDING  PLACE  AT  ST.  HELENA   .          .  .215 

"LADDER  HILL"  AT  ST.  HELENA     .          .         .  .223 

THE  "BRIARS"  235 


FOREWORD. 

Persistent  inquiry  for  the  volume  of  her  father's  famous 
old  whaling  stories,  "The  Gam",  now  long  out  of  print, 
has  led  Miss  Eobbins  to  believe  that  a  new  edition  would 
be  welcome  in  New  Bedford  and,  indeed,  wherever  there  is 
interest  in  the  most  picturesque  industry  of  the  Atlantic 
coast. 

It  is  particularly  appropriate  that  Miss  Eobbins  should 
get  out  the  fresh  edition,  not  only  because  Captain  Charles 
H.  Eobbins  was  her  father,  but  because  she  belongs  in 
such  a  singular  sense  to  the  old  whaling  days,  having  been 
born  on  board  the  Bark  Thomas  Pope,  on  one  of  her  long 
voyages.  Geographically,  Miss  Eobbins  would  be  hard  put 
to  it  to  name  her  birthplace.  But  ask  her  in  seaman's 
latitude  and  longitude  and  she  can  tell  to  a  degree ! 

The  rousing  old  stories  of  whale-chasing  raise  many  a 
question  in  the  minds  of  the  reader  which  the  former 
volume  did  not  attempt  to  answer.  It  has  seemed  worth 
while  to  round  out  the  story  prepared  from  Captain  Bob 
bins'  yarns  and  from  his  old  log  with  some  history  of  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  fascinating  industry  of  whaling.  To 
this  new  matter  has  been  added  a  set  of  superb  pictures, 
reproductions  from  photographs  taken  from  the  life — 
and  death — of  the  sperm  whale,  which  will  make  this  edi 
tion  a  distinct  contribution  to  the  scanty  literature  of 
whaling. 

In  the  former  edition  all  explanation  of  the  odd  title, 
THE  GAM,  was  deferred  to  a  chapter  way  over  toward 
the  back  of  the  book.  And  as  the  words  must  have  a 


Xll  FOREWORD. 

puzzling  sound  in  a  landsman's  ear,  it  will  be  well  to 
elucidate  right  here. 

"Gamming",  is  deep-sea  gossiping.  Two  whaleships, 
meeting  on  a  long  cruise,  perhaps  thousands  of  miles  from 
home,  will  heave  to  after  the  day's  whale  hunt  is  over, 
and  the  captain's  watch  of  one  ship  will  go  a-visiting  in 
the  forecastle  of  the  other.  And  then  marvellous  would 
be  the  whale-stories  passed  round  over  the  cards  and  to 
bacco  !  Captain  Bobbins'  grist  of  just  such  characteristic 

whaleman's  yarns  took  the  picturesque  name,  The  Gam. 
******* 

The  redskins  were  the  first  whalemen  of  North  America. 
White  explorers  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  the  Cabots  found 
the  Indians  expert  and  intrepid  hunters  of  blackfish  and 
right  whale,  whose  feeding  grounds  were  then  close  in 
shore.  For  more  than  a  century  before  the  country  was 
successfully  colonized,  train-oil  and  whalebone  were  pur 
chased  from  the  Indians  by  those  British  sailors  who  kept 
voyaging  to  the  tempting  fishing  grounds  of  the  New 
World. 

The  whale  played  no  inconspicuous  part  in  the  coming 
of  the  Pilgrims,  who,  when  they  sought  a  place  in  which 
they  might  exercise  freedom  of  worship,  had  a  canny  eye 
on  the  fisheries  as  a  means  of  livelihood.  A  Mayflower 
chronicle  records  that  large  whales  "of  the  best  kind  for 
oil  and  bone"  came  and  played  round  the  ship  as  she  lay 
at  anchor  inside  Cape  Cod — a  fact  which  helped  mightily 
to  decide  them  to  seek  no  further  for  a  home. 

Indian-fashion,  the  Pilgrims  and  first  settlers  set  about 
their  early  ventures  in  whaling.  Drift  whales,  dead  ones 
floated  inshore,  made  a  considerable  part  of  the  redmen's 
catch.  But  they  did  not  hesitate  to  launch  their  light 
canoes  through  the  surf,  swarm  in  dozens  about  a  monster 


FOREWORD.  X1U 

whale,  keeping  agilely  clear  of  his  deadly  flukes,  and  with 
their  crude,  stone-pointed  spears  and  arrows  gradually 
worry  him  to  death.  Then  they  dragged  him  ashore,  called 
their  "chief  lords"  together,  sang  a  song  of  triumph,  and, 
dividing  the  spoil,  gave  every  member  of  the  tribe  a  share. 

Among  the  Indians  no  part  of  the  captured  whale  save 
the  actual  bones,  was  useless.  Blubber  and  lean  meat  were 
served  up  as  delicacies,  and  the  oil  took*  the  place  of  the 
white  man's  butter.  Stomach  and  intestines,  inflated  and 
carefully  dried,  did  duty  as  excellent  oil-bottles,  while  the 
mighty  sinews  of  the  flukes  made  firm  lines  and  ropes  for 
the  catching  of  more  whales. 

Since  the  savages  would  accept  in  pay  for  their  labor, 
many  to  them  valueless  parts  of  a  whale's  carcass,  the  white 
invaders  were  happy  to  employ  their  savage  skill  in  whal 
ing,  providing  them  with  the  deadly  European  "harping- 
iron"  and  lance  to  replace  their  light  spears. 

Up  to  1650  the  settlers  probably  went  little  further  than 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  drift-whales,  squabbling  vigor 
ously  when  they  came  ashore,  enacting  statutes  to  regulate 
the  squabbles,  and  occasionally  going  off  shore  in  pursuit  of 
a  live  whale  which,  when  dispatched,  they  towed  to  the 
beach  to  be  cut  up  and  tried  out  for  oil. 

In  all  probability  Long  Island  deserves  the  honor  of 
organizing  whaling  on  a  business  basis.  Shore  lookouts 
were  built  from  which  the  "blow"  of  whales  might  be  seen 
if  they  came  near  shore,  and  a  regular  system  of  watches 
was  established.  It  is  recorded  that  in  this  way  they 
"saved"  many  whales.  Saved!  It  all  depends  on  the  point 
of  view.  I  venture  to  say  it  looked  different  to  the  whale ! 

Cape  Cod  was  not  much  behind.  By  1688  Secretary 
Eandolph  was  writing  home  from  Massachusetts,  "New 
Plimouth  Colony  have  great  profit  by  whale-killing."  By 


FOREWORD. 


that  time  we  hear  of  "squadrons"  of  small  boats  setting 
out  for  expeditions  along  the  coast,  the  whole  company 
putting  into  shore  at  night  to  camp  on  the  beach.  Such 
expeditions  often  remained  out  for  a  week  or  two  at  a 
stretch.  Verily  those  were  the  days  of  small  things.  When 
whaling  came  to  full  bloom,  the  ships  sailed  on  voyages 
lasting  from  one  to  three  years,  and  sometimes  longer. 

Nantucket  was  a  bit  slow  in  getting  into  the  game.  Her 
settlers  were  not  by  training,  seafaring  men.  She  did  not 
really  turn  her  attention  to  the  blubber-mines  afloat  all 
about  her  until  an  indiscreet  right  whale  fairly  jumped 
down  her  throat.  A  big  fellow  nosed  his  way  into  the  har 
bor  and  hung  about  for  three  livelong  days,  flaunting  him 
self  before  the  eyes  of  the  landlubbers.  It  was  too  much 
for  them.  "They  invented  and  caused  to  be  made  a  har 
poon"  while  the  whale  waited,  and  all  inexperienced  as 
they  were,  attacked  and  killed  the  monster. 

That  woke  them  up.  They  set  seriously  about  learning 
the  art  of  whale-chasing.  Eealizing  their  lack  of  skill, 
they  sent  over  to  Cape  Cod  for  a  tutor,  one  Ichabod  Pad 
dock,  to  teach  the  best  way  to  kill  whales  and  try  out  the 
oil.  That  was  1690.  From  that  time  Nantucket  whaling 
advanced  by  leaps  and  bounds. 

At  first  the  islanders  got  all  the  prey  they  wanted 
without  going  out  of  sight  of  land.  Watch  was  set  on  a 
tall  mast,  and  the  lookout  spying  a  welcome  spout,  gave  the 
alarm.  Prizes  were  towed  ashore,  where  try-works  had 
been  built,  the  whale  was  beached,  cut  up,  and  the  blubber 
tried  out,  the  oil  being  cooled  and  casked. 

Long  enough  after  shore  fishing  had  ceased  to  be  profit 
able,  when  the  whaling  fleet  consisted  of  goodly  schooners 
and  barks,  the  fires  under  the  beach  try-works  were 
kept  blazing.  Whales  captured  at  sea  were  cut  up,  and 


FOREWORD.  XV 

the  blubber  in  square  pieces  was  stowed  in  casks  to  be  tried 
out  at  home  when  the  voyage  was  done.  The  method  was 
wasteful,  and  the  process  of  trying  out  putrid  blubber  a 
nauseous  one.  Yet  it  was  almost  the  middle  of  the  eight 
eenth  century  before  any  better  way  was  discovered. 

But  I  am  getting  ahead  of  my  story.  Two  factors  con 
spired  to  alter  the  complexion  of  the  whaling  outlook  very 
early  in  the  eighteenth  century,  both  for  Nantucket,  and 
for  Long  Island  and  Martha's  Vineyard,  which  about  this 
time  had  developed  quite  a  trade  in  whale-oil.  As  the 
whale-hunters  grew  more  numerous  and  more  expert,  the 
whales  were  driven  from  their  feeding  grounds  along  the 
coast  and  it  became  necessary  to  go  farther  and  farther 
from  land  to  make  captures.  Then,  in  1712,  an  accident 
introduced  the  sperm  whale  to  his  hitherto  unappreciative 
foes  on  shore.  Captain  Christopher  Hussey  of  Nantucket, 
while  cruising  in  an  open  boat,  was  caught  by  an  offshore 
gale  and  driven  out  to  sea.  The  men  became  exhausted 
and  very  likely  would  have  died  of  exposure  had  they  not 
chanced  to  run  in  among  a  whole  school  of  sperm  whales. 
One  sperm  whale  had  been  seen  on  Nantucket,  a  drift  speci 
men;  and  the  most  fabulous  notions  were  entertained  as 
to  the  value  of  the  spermaceti.  The  sight  of  the  huge 
beasts  roused  the  exhausted  whalers  to  new  life.  They 
killed  a  whale,  and  the  "slick"  of  the  oil  oozing  from  the 
wounded  blubber  so  smoothed  the  waves  that  they  weathered 
the  gale,  and  next  day  towed  their  great  prize  in  triumph 
to  land. 

After  that  everybody  wanted  sperm  whale,  and  as  the 
sperm  whale  never  feeds  close  to  shore,  it  was  necessary 
to  fit  out  vessels  large  enough  to  go  whaling  out  in  the 
"deep".  Even  then,  they  made  short  cruises,  not  more 
than  six  weeks,  returning  to  shore  after  each  capture  to 


FOREWORD. 


land  the  blubber  and  sail  out  again  to  the  sperm  grounds. 

While  this  was  by  no  means  the  end  of  shore-fishing, 
which  continued  profitable  for  many  years,  it  was  the 
opening  up  of  the  romance  of  whale-hunting.  Once  they 
had  found  their  way  to  the  deep  sea  the  whalers  ventured 
with  every  voyage  farther  and  farther  from  shore.  Ves 
sels  of  larger  capacity  were  built  to  accommodate  the 
blubber  from  a  number  of  whales. 

According  to  Spears,  the  whalemen  discovered  that  warm 
river  in  the  cold  seas  —  the  Gulf  Stream.  It  would  cer 
tainly  seem  that  one  of  them  —  Captain  Folger  —  was  the 
first  to  chart  it  at  the  request  of  Benjamin  Franklin.  And 
they  discovered  that  along  the  margins  of  the  stream  great 
quantities  of  whale  food,  or  brit,  was  to  be  found  floating, 
and  that  consequently,  whales  were  plenty.  This  led  them 
to  follow  the  Gulf  Stream  to  Cape  Hatteras,  to  Cuba,  to 
the  Bahamas. 

In  1743  the  whalers  began  to  carry  their  own  try-pots, 
protecting  the  deck  from  risk  of  fire  by  placing  a  reservoir 
full  of  water  beneath  the  furnaces.  It  was  now  possible 
to  try  out  the  sweet  blubber  as  it  was  cut  in  from  the 
whale,  and  the  oil,  properly  boiled  and  cooled,  could  be 
kept  in  perfect  condition  for  years.  This  removed  the  last 
obstacle  to  long  voyages. 

Moreover,  British  governors  were  displaying  an  incon 
venient  tendency  to  try  to  squeeze  personal  profit  out  of 
the  whaling  business.  The  masters  found  it  expedient  to 
Retake  themselves  to  the  open  seas  over  which  the  cupidity 
of  royal  governors  could  have  no  control. 

Hence,  the  Nantucket  whaler  was  found  at  the  Azores,  at 
Madeira,  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  in  Patagonia,  in  Brazilian 
ports,  and  even  as  far  south  as  the  Falkland  Islands.  To 
the  north  they  penetrated  to  the  mouth  of  Baffin's  Bay,  to 


FOREWORD. 


Greenland,  to  say  nothing  of  Labrador  and  Newfoundland. 

In  1774  the  whale  fishery  was  at  the  flood.  Something 
like  360  vessels  were  annually  fitted  out  for  whaling 
cruises,  and  very  nearly  five  thousand  men  were  shipped 
annually  as  seamen  on  board  the  fleet,  the  industry  giving 
occupation  indirectly  to  an  army  of  coopers,  blacksmiths, 
cordwainers,  outfitters,  stevedores,  etc.,  beside.  Between 
1771  and  1775  the  annual  production  of  sperm  oil  was 
45,000  barrels,  whale-oil  8,500  barrels,  and  of  whalebone 
75,000  pounds.  Sperm  candles  to  the  value  of  $118,000 
were  exported  in  1770. 

But  trouble  was  ahead.  In  the  long  struggle  with  France 
for  possession  of  Canada,  the  colonists  had  done  most  of 
the  effective  fighting  on  this  side  of  the  water  and  not  a 
few  hardy  New  England  fishermen  and  whalers  as  well  as 
farmers  had  given  up  their  lives  to  the  cause.  When, 
therefore,  the  fishing  grounds  off  Newfoundland  and  Lab 
rador  were  wrested  from  France,  New  England  whalemen 
counted  upon  enjoying  the  fruits  of  the  colonial  struggle. 
They  reckoned  without  Great  Britain.  British  tax-payers 
were  clamoring  to  have  the  expense  of  the  standing  army, 
which  was  necessary  to  hold  the  newly-gained  territory, 
borne  entirely  by  the  colonies;  hence  the  policy  of  direct 
taxation  which  brought  on  the  Eevolution.  Moreover, 
Great  Britain  was  covetous  of  both  Holland  and  America 
because  of  their  thriving  whale-fisheries.  By  means  of 
bounties,  she  had  tried  to  encourage  her  own  whaling,  but 
English  ships  did  not  bring  in  enough  oil  to  supply  the 
home  demand.  Therefore,  by  way  of  crippling  her  ad 
versaries,  she  clapped  an  import  duty  on  oil  and  bone  com 
ing  from  the  colonies. 

Moreover,  when  New  England  whalers  attempted  to 
cruise  in  the  Newfoundland  and  Labrador  grounds,  they 


XV111  FOREWORD. 

found  themselves  in  conflict  with  royal  governors  whose 
restrictions  and  hampering  regulations  made  the  fishery 
practically  impossible  to  any  but  British  ships.  By  1775 
Parliament  was  taking  the  ground  that  the  northern  fish 
eries,  won  almost  entirely  by  colonial  prowess,  were  the 
property  of  England.  A  bill  passed  in  that  year  restricted 
the  trade  of  New  England  to  British  ports,  and  prohibited 
the  colonies  from  carrying  on  any  fishery  on  the  Banks 
or  any  other  part  of  the  North  American  coast. 

In  vain  did  even  Englishmen  protest  that  this  was  rigor 
more  harsh  than  that  meted  out  to  avowed  enemies.  In 
vain  was  it  recalled  that  among  civilized  nations  at  war 
it  was  the  custom  to  spare  the  fishing-craft;  "always  con 
sidering  that  we  wage  war  with  nations,  not  with  private 
individuals." 

Great  Britain  could  not  afford  to  consider  the  rules  of 
civilized  warfare.  She  had  a  double  motive  in  her  dealings 
with  the  whale  fishery.  One  was  to  bring  the  colonies  into 
submission.  The  other  to  turn  the  rich  profits  of  the 
American  whaling  industry  into  British  pockets.  Hence 
her  treatment  of  Nantucket,  the  reading  of  which  is  cal 
culated  to  make  an  American  burn  to  fight  the  Revolution 
all  over  again. 

When  the  act  forbidding  all  fishing  along  the  American 
coasts  was  passed,  hundreds  of  whaling  vessels,  out  on 
long  cruises,  could  not  be  recalled.  British  cruisers  were 
sent  out  to  capture  such  luckless  ships  and  their  crews 
were  offered  the  choice  of  service  in  the  British  navy  or 
shipment  on  British  whalers!  Great  numbers  of  ISTan- 
tucket  whalemen  enlisted  in  the  American  navy,  and 
many  others  became  privateers,  only  to  fall  a  prey  to 
British  cruisers  and  merchantmen,  for  most  of  them  car 
ried  not  more  than  a  single  cannon. 


FOKEWOBD.  XIX 

Such  whaling  vessels  as  were  not  captured  were  mostly 
burned  at  the  wharf.  The  British  destroyed  all  shore 
works — storehouses  and  try-furnaces.  Out  of  her  fleet 
of  150  vessels,  Nantucket  lost  134  captured  and  15 
wrecked.  Meanwhile,  England  with  her  stolen  Nantucket 
whalemen,  was  able  to  carry  on  a  very  valuable  whale 
fishery  on  the  coast  of  Brazil.  Of  a  fleet  of  seventeen  ves 
sels  reported  in  this  fishery  "all  the  officers  and  almost  all 
the  men  were  Americans  from  Nantucket  and  Cape  Cod, 
except  two  or  three  from  Rhode  Island  and  perhaps  one 
from  Long  Island"!  Over  1200  Nantucket  men  either  lost 
their  lives  or  were  taken  prisoners  before  the  Revolution 
came  to  an  end. 

In  the  face  of  all  this,  one  wants  to  take  off  one's  hat 
to  the  plucky  little  ship  "Bedford"  from  Nantucket,  which 
was  the  first  vessel  to  display  the  thirteen  rebellious  stripes 
of  America  in  a  British  port  after  peace  had  been  declared. 

Pluck  could  not  save  the  Nantucket  whaling.  The 
British  put  a  duty  of  eighteen  pounds  a  ton  on  "rebel"  oil, 
which  effectually  closed  the  English  market.  Moreover, 
during  the  war,  when  fishing  was  impossible,  the  Ameri 
cans  had  been  forced  to  find  substitutes  for  whale-oil  lamps, 
among  other  things,  tallow  candles.  Hence  the  home  mar 
ket  was  slack.  Moreover,  poor  fellows,  their  very  success 
in  catching  whales  (the  monsters  had  grown  less  timid 
during  the  war  when  not  pursued,  and  had  multiplied), 
served  to  glut  the  market  and  depress  prices.  In  despair 
a  goodly  number  of  Nantucket  men  emigrated  to  France, 
to  Nova  Scotia,  and  even  to  England  The  island  still 
regards  them  as  a  parcel  of  renegades,  to  take  the  best 
whaling  blood  of  America  to  foreign  ports. 

Between  the  Revolution  and  the  War  of  1812  came  a 
period  of  great  depression  in  the  whaling  industry.    With 


XX  FOREWORD. 

the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  a  number  of  Xew  England 
whalers  took  flight  round  Cape  Horn  and  went  to  fishing 
in  Pacific  waters.  Xow  did  the  emigrant  whalemen  show 
themselves  renegades  indeed.  For,  knowing  that  their 
old  friends  and  comrades  of  Xantucket  were  whaling  in  the 
Pacific,  they  sailed  round  the  Cape  to  plunder  at  their 
will  It  is  a  satisfaction  to  recall  that  the  United  States 
frigate  "Essex"  not  only  came  to  the  release  of  the  Ameri 
can  whalers,  but  that  she  made  prizes  of  all  but  one  British 
ship. 

The  War  of  1812  proved  to  the  world  that  the  American 
navy  could  make  it  hot  for  anybody  who  meddled  with 
American  merchantmen.  Then  came  the  golden  era  for 
the  whalemen.  Larger  vessels  were  found  to  be  more 
profitable,  and  longer  voyages  became  the  rule.  The  Pa 
cific  swarmed  with  whalemen,  who  worked  down  the  west 
ern  coast  of  South  America,  visited  cannibal  islands, 
crossed  to  the  feeding  grounds  off  the  coast  of  Japan, 
cruised  round  Xew  Zealand,  Tasmania,  and  New  Guinea. 
They  were  the  geographers  of  Oceanica.  One  Xantucket 
ship,  the  Columbus,  worked  her  way  along  the  north 
coast  of  Africa,  into  the  Red  Sea,  across  the  Indian  Ocean 
and  so  among  the  islands  back  to  his  mates  in  the  Pacific, 
a  route  which  thereafter  became  quite  popular. 

In  1835  the  first  bowhead  whale  was  taken  off  the  coast 
of  Alaska.  Bowheads  yield  amazing  quantities  of  oil,  and 
from  this  time  on  much  attention  was  given  to  northern 
waters  where  these  ugly  monsters  are  to  be  found. 

In  1847  the  little  bark  Superior,  from  Sag  Harbor,  nosed 
her  way  through  Bering's  Strait  and  turned  up  again  19 
months  later  at  Sag  Harbor  with  80  barrels  of  sperm,  2400 
of  whale  oil,  and  20,000  pounds  of  whaleboDe — a  cargo 


?•:  F.ITT  ;  7.1- 


worth  a  cool  $34,000.     That  opened  up  €he  way  to  the 
Arctic,  which  became  a  Jaiurile  *u»ti^  giuuad. 

The  year  1857  was  probably  high  wafer  mark  so  far 
as  tie  nimiber  of  resseb  deariiig  Xew  Eiigland  pom.  Xew 
Bedford  had  long  ago  outstripped  her  early  rival,  Xan- 
tucket  In  185?  Xew  Bedford  had  329  whalers,  or  if  the 
minor  ports  in  the  bay  be  added,  426.  Xantncket  owned 
but  41,  and  most  of  these  sailed  from  other  ports.  Hie 
cause  of  !N  antuckefs  fl^*™*  as  a  whaling  port  was  due  to  a 
bar  which  obstructed  her  harbor,  and  which,  when  large 
whaling  ships  became  the  role,  proved  a  serious  obstacle. 
Congress  short-sightedly  refused  aid,  and  after  heroic 
efforts  to  float  the  big  ships  over  the  bar  by  means  of  a 
"camel""  or  ^**nfiiMP  *^M<^'  operated  •"••V*  Hi  own  steam, 
the  islanders  largely  gave  up  the  fight,  and  by  1874  Han- 
tucket  had  disappeared  from  the  annals  of  whaling 
altogether. 

The  Civil  War  has  been  given  move  than  its  due  of 
blame  for  the  decline  of  the  whaling;  industry.  Rebel 
privateers  did  some  destruction,  it  is  true,  and  whaling 
masters,  not  caring  to  fit  out  for  cruises  under  snen  risks, 
sold  their  ships  or  transferred  them  to  the  mi  ulnnl 
service.  Forty  vessels  were  bought  by  the  United  States 
Government  lor  the  fsnmm  stone  fleet,  sunk  across  the 
month  of  the  harbors  of  Charleston  and  Savannah  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  blockade  running  of  these  southern  waters. 

Had  not  the  fishery  been  dying  from  ^"fl*^  causes, 
however,  it  would  have  motuod  easily  from  the  blows 
of  the  Civil  War.  as  it  had  already  recovered  from  much 
severer  disasters  in  the  Revolution  and  the  War  of  1819. 
The  fact  is,  it  did  revive  the  moment  peace  was  declared; 
new  ships  were  built  and  everything  started  merrily 


XXli  FOREWORD. 

It  is  not  easy  to  daunt  a  whaleman.  The  gambling  ele 
ment  in  the  business  is  too  strong.  He  risks  his  life,  he 
risks  being  eaten  by  cannibals,  or  being  frozen  into  Arctic- 
ice,  he  risks  financial  disaster,  but  all  the  time  he  "runs 
a  chance"  of  making  a  prodigious  amount  of  money  in 
a  few  months.  There  lies  the  fascination. 

Consider  the  terrible  disaster  to  the  Arctic  fleet  in  the 
autumn  of  1871.  Trusting  to  their  experience  of  the 
locking-in  of  the  ice  for  the  winter,  and  disregarding  the 
friendly  warnings  of  the  Esquimo,  who  urged  them  to  run 
for  their  lives,  the  whole  fleet,  some  thirty-four  vessels, 
were  imprisoned  in  the  ice-sheet.  Three  were  crushed  be 
fore  the  whalemen  were  convinced  that  they  must  be  aban 
doned  with  their  costly  cargoes,  and  the  entire  company, 
twelve  hundred  seamen,  with  some  women  and  children, 
must  make  their  way  across  the  bitter,  icy  seas  to  the  seven 
vessels  lying  on  the  southern  edge  of  the  icefields.  The 
loss  in  New  Bedford  alone  was  over  a  million  dollars. 
Yet,  the  next  year  found  twenty-seven  whalers  risking 
the  precarious  northern  seas. 

No,  it  was  neither  battle,  murder,  nor  sudden  death 
which  took  the  heart  out  of  the  whaling.  The  causes  of 
its  decline  were  economic.  Whalemen  had  never  been 
financiers.  No  organization  among  them  had  controlled 
the  supply,  and  glutted  markets  were  forever  bringing 
down  prices.  Conservation  had  not  begun  to  be  talked  of 
in  those  days.  Whalemen  pursued  their  prey  relentlessly 
farther  and  farther  from  shore  and  even  up  under  the 
ice  of  the  North  Pacific.  Then,  just  when  scarcity  of 
whales  made  longer  and  longer  voyages  necessary — some 
times  voyages  lasting  four,  five  and  six  years — and  the 
price  of  whale  oil  correspondingly  increased,  came  the 
discovery  of  coal  oil.  Once  the  people  got  over  their  fear 


FOREWORD.  Xxiil 

of  its  explosive  character  the  kerosene  lamp  made  short 
work  of  the  old  whale  oil  affairs. 

Two  more  agencies  worked  against  the  trade.  The 
gold  fever — which  drew  off  the  daring,  adventurous  men 
who  had  been  the  life  of  whale  hunting;  and  the  rise  in 
the  cost  of  living  which  made  the  fitting  out  of  whalers  so 
expensive  as  to  heavily  cut  in  on  the  profit.  So  long  as 
the  crews  were  made  up  of  Americans,  hardy,  fearless,  and 
eager  for  the  game,  brutality  on  whaleships  had  no  excuse 
for  being.  Crews,  even  down  to  the  cabin-boy,  had  the  same 
interest  as  the  captain  in  making  a  capture,  since  they  all 
shared  in  the  spoils.  But  since  the  crews  have  been  made 
up  of  Portugese  from  the  Azores,  or  Kanakas,  or  coal- 
black  Bravas  from  the  Cape  Verd  Islands,  with  a  sprinkling 
of  Malays  and  Chinese,  the  old  spirit,  the  old  loyal  pulling 
together  has  disappeared.  It  is  one  thing  to  drive  a  panic- 
stricken  Pacific  island  mongrel  into  a  tussle  with  a  fight 
ing  whale ;  it  is  quite  another  to  control  the  reckless  daring 
of  a  pure-blooded  Yankee  crew. 

Suffering  from  all  these  complaints,  the  whale  fishery 
has  fallen  off  with  some  rapidity.  In  1883  the  whole  fleet 
numbered  125,  and  of  these  nineteen  were  in  Pacific 
waters.  Eight  years  later  only  forty  vessels  remained, 
eighteen  in  the  Pacific.  Something  like  that  number  are 
still  in  service,  for  sperm  oil  and  whalebone  are  still  ne 
cessities  to  modern  life.  The  oil  is  used  for  the  very 
finest  machine  lubricants  and  in  dressing  leather.  The 
crude  whale  oil  is  in  demand  in  ropewalks,  and  for  mixture 
with  black  lead  for  chain  lubricants.  Whalebone  has 
never  found  its  equal  for  the  dress  and  corsetmaker's  use, 
or  for  the  manufacture  of  whips.  Therefore,  a  few  of  the 
picturesque  old  whale  craft  will  continue  to  flatter  Atlan 
tic  ports.  Most  of  them  have  been  sold  into  the  merchant 


XXVI  FOREWORD. 

are  in  a  small  boat  and  quite  another  when  you're  aboard 
a  big  vessel.  Captain  Jenkins  regarded  that  whale  as  a 
huge  joke.  He  shouted  to  the  mate  that  there  was  a  whale 
trying  to  get  alongside.  "Help  him  along!"  roared  he. 

The  mate  was  quick,  but  the  whale  was  quicker.  When 
the  mate  stood  up  to  let  him  have  it,  the  hugh  creature 
was  so  near,  coming  so  fast,  he  didn't  have  room  to  swing 
his  iron.  He  failed  to  make  fast  and  the  whale  continued 
to  head  for  the  ship;  only,  as  if  irritated,  he  redoubled 
his  already  terrific  speed. 

Still,  the  captain  felt  only  vexation  at  losing  the  prize. 
A  whale  attacked  can  usually  be  counted  on  to  sound.  But 
this  one  did  not  go  down,  neither  did  he  swerve  from  his 
course. 

When  he  got  within  thirty  feet  of  the  ship  he  seemed  to 
see  her  and  tried  to  dive  under  her  keel,  but  he  was  too 
close.  His  great,  square  head  struck  the  bark  forward 
of  the  mizzen  rigging,  and  five  or  six  feet  below  the  water- 
line.  The  Kathleen  quivered  under  the  blow  as  if  she  had 
crashed  upon  a  reef.  Then  she  rose  at  the  stern  as  the 
whale  tried  to  come  up  under  her,  dropping  back  with  a 
mighty  splash. 

Still  the  captain  was  not  alarmed.  In  his  narrative,  he 
says,  "I  asked  the  cooper  if  he  thought  the  whale  had 
hurt  the  ship  and  he  said  he  didn't  think  so,  for  he  had 
not  heard  anything  crack." 

The  whale,  meanwhile,  had  come  up  to  the  surface  and 
"laid  there  and  rolled,  didn't  seem  to  know  what  to  do." 
Perhaps  his  head  ached  or  he  was  seeing  stars.  The  mate 
seeing  him  thus  subdued  was  for  getting  an  iron  into  him. 
But  Captain  Jenkins  ordered  him  alongside.  With  night 
coming  on  and  the  three  other  boats  out  of  sight,  he  didn't 
think  it  best  to  "fool"  with  that  whale  any  more.  So  the 


FOREWORD. 


mate  reluctantly  hoisted  his  boat  and  joined  the  captain 
at  the  masthead,  where  his  young  eyes  easily  "raised"  the 
boats,  all  fast  to  whales. 

Just  then  a  shout  from  below  warned  Captain  Jenkins 
that  the  whale  "hadn't  done  a  thing"  to  the  bark.  The 
forecastle  was  filling  with  water.  "Quite  a  hole  in  her", 
he  says  there  was.  He  instantly  set  signals  for  all  boats 
to  come  on  board.  But  a  whaleman  fast  to  a  whale 
doesn't  lightly  let  go.  The  boats  paid  no  attention. 

The  Kathleen's  case  was  beyond  help.  There  was  noth 
ing  to  do  but  stow  water  and  bread  into  the  boat,  collect 
Mrs.  Jenkins  and  the  parrot  she  declined  to  abandon,  and 
take  to  the  sea.  Five  minutes  after  the  boat  was  lowered, 
the  Kathleen  rolled  over  to  windward.  They  had  no  more 
than  time  to  get  clear. 

Twenty-one  souls,  with  supplies,  sunk  the  small  boat 
so  deep  in  the  water  that  the  waves  came  over  the  centre 
board  and  all  hands  were  kept  busy  bailing.  It  was  a 
beautiful  moonlight  night  and  the  sea  was  considerately 
smooth.  Yet,  as  I  said,  they  were  just  about  a  thousand 
miles  from  anywhere  in  an  open  boat,  with  a  modest  supply 
of  bread  and  water.  The  situation  was  not  cheering. 

First  of  all  they  set  their  sails  and  steered  in  the  direc 
tion  where  they  supposed  the  other  boats  to  lie.  It  seemed 
a  thoughtful  attention  to  tell  them  they  needn't  waste 
any  time  on  those  whales  or  on  looking  for  the  poor  old 
barky,  and  to  give  them  some  bread  and  water. 

By  good  luck  they  raised  the  boats  about  nine  that 
night.  In  his  moderate  whaleman's  way,  Captain  Jenkins 
says,  "They  were  very  much  surprised  to  hear  that  the 
Kathleen  was  gone!"  The  four  boats  immediately  put 
about  and  steered  for  the  island  of  Barbados,  1060  miles 
away.  Three  of  them  were  picked  up  by  a  steamer  after 


xxviii  FOREWORD. 

a  lapse  of  twelve  hours,  but  the  fourth,  getting  separated 
from  the  rest,  made  the  run  to  the  Barbados  in  nine  days, 
the  mate  and  nine  seamen  subsisting  that  time  on  5  gal 
lons  of  water  and  a  little  ship's  bread. 

The  Kathleen  was  a  total  loss.  As  for  the  whale,  Cap 
tain  Jenkins  can  only  hope  that  the  barky's  keel  killed 
as  many  of  him  as  he  did  of  her. 


MAKING  A  MASTER.;'  ' 

ONE  keen  winter  morning  in  1837,  there  stood 
before  Captain  Lewis  Tobey,  of  the  ship  Swift,  a 
boy  asking  permission  to  go  with  him  on  his  next 
voyage.  The  captain  looking  sharply  at  his 
visitor,  saw  a  lad  of  hardly  fifteen,  slight,  erect, 
with  dark  hair  and  deep  blue  eyes,  and  something 
about  his  square  chin  and  firm  mouth  which  he 
seemed  to  think  argued  well  for  the  future. 

"  Take  your  hands  out  of  your  pockets,  and  tell 
me  your  name,"  demanded  the  master. 

"  My  name  is  Charles  H.  Bobbins,"  replied  the 
boy,  his  eyes  on  the  hands  which  were  now 
clasped  in  front  of  him.  That  boy  was  myself. 

"  Who  is  your  father  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 

"  My  father  was  Lemuel  Bobbins,  sir,"  I  replied 
softly.  "  He  died  six  years  ago." 

The  captain  remembered  that  he  had  seen  the 
boy  before.  Many  evenings  when  he  sat  telling 
sea  tales  to  the  friends  who  were  his  entertainers 
on  shore,  this  lad,  visiting  his  chum,  the  young 
son  of  the  family,  had  been  among  his  listeners. 

The  result  of  that  morning  interview  was  a 
decision  that  I  should  go  as  cabin-boy  on  the  ship 
Swift,  which  was  very  soon  to  sail. 


Z  MAKING   A    MASTER. 

As  I  walked  away,  after  my  conversation  with 
the  captain,  ?ny  unexpressed  feeling  was  that  for 
me  real  life  was  about  to  begin  ;  the  life  of 
achievement,  of  accomplishment,  of  profit.  I  had 
made  what  I  considered  a  good  bargain  with  the 
ship-master.  I  was  to  receive  fifty  dollars  before 
sailing,  and  fifty  dollars  on  my  return  home. 
What  boy  does  not  regard  a  hundred  dollars  as  a 
fortune  ? 

There  was  pressing  need  that  real  life  should 
begin,  that  good  bargains  should  be  made.  Nine 
living  children  had  my  mother,  the  widow 
Bobbins,  of  whom  I  was  the  seventh.  My  birth 
place  had  been  Mattapoisett,  where  I  had  lived 
six  of  my  fifteen  years.  The  little  New  Bedford 
house  on  hilly  Foster  Street,  which  had  been  my 
home  for  nine  years,  was  uncomfortably  full,  and 
insufficiently  furnished  with  life's  necessities,  and 
there  were  only  two  men  children  among  my 
mother's  brood.  To  the  Mercury  office,  where  I 
had  been  employed  as  office  boy  and  paper- 
carrier,  there  often  came  a  marine  reporter, 
telling,  with  the  glib  tongue  and  ready  imagina 
tion  common  to  his  kind,  of  the  adventures  and 
the  gains  of  those  who  secure  a  livelihood  by  the 
sea.  These  relatings,  to  which  were  added  those 
of  Captain  Tobey,  aided  by  my  own  imagination, 


MAKING   A   MASTER.  6 

convinced  me  that  no  better  employment  could 
befall  a  man  than  was  to  be  had  on  ship-board. 
To  the  conviction  that  it  was  my  duty  to 
materially  aid  in  supporting  our  family,  was  added 
youth's  longing  for  change,  and  the  appeal  which 
the  wide,  free  ocean  life  made  to  my  poetic 
temperment.  To  my  mother's  opposition  to  the 
contemplated  voyage,  I  said,  "  If  I  don't  go  now, 
I  shall  at  some  future  time,"  and  her  consent  was 
finally  given. 

One  February  day  I  went  out  of  the  old  home 
gate  a  very  sad  feeling  boy.  The  very  squeak  of 
the  hinges  seemed  to  be  saying  good-bye.  I  was 
going  to  join  the  ship.  I  was  already  homesick, 
but  even  with  that  terrible  feeling  tugging  at  my 
heart  I  did  not  wish  things  otherwise.  The 
remembrance  of  the  kind  tones  and  genial  manner 
of  the  captain  I  had  so  many  times  met  on  shore 
was  a  great  comfort  to  me  in  my  loneliness,  as 
with  misty  eyes  I  looked  farewell  to  every  well- 
known  object  as  I  hurried  down  the  familiar 
streets  which  led  to  the  wharf.  But  alas  for  my 
hopes  of  sympathy  !  As  having  reached  the  ship, 
I  stood  ready  for  my  duties  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  leading  below,  the  captain  came  on  board, 
carrying  in  his  hand  a  bandanna  handkerchief 
which,  with  its  ends  tied  together,  served  as  a 
receptacle  for  half  a  dozen  fine  apples. 


4  MAKING   A   MASTER. 

"Here/'  he  shouted  to  me,  "take  these  and 
carry  them  to  my  cabin,  and  if  you  put  one  of 
your  teeth  in  them  I  will  break  every  bone  in 
your  body." 

Thus  early  and  abruptly  I  was  made  aware  of 
the  difference  between  an  old  school  captain 
ashore  and  afloat,  and  reminded  of  the  remark  of 
a  previous  cabin-boy  of  the  Swift,  who  had  said 
to  me,  "You  would  enjoy  hell  better  than  a 
voyage  with  Tobey  as  master." 

For  ten  days  the  Swift  lay  in  port,  hemmed  in 
by  ice,  and  I,  so  near  home  and  so  unutterably 
homesick,  was  not  allowed  to  leave  the  ship. 
The  confined  sailors,  the  liquor  which  they  had 
brought  on  board  as  a  part  of  their  outfit  becom 
ing  exhausted,  determined  to  cut  away  a  boat 
and  land  at  all  hazards,  but  on  its  becoming 
known  that  the  mate  had  given  orders  to  shoot 
any  sailor  who  attempted  to  do  this,  the  men 
gave  up  the  idea.  At  last,  fearing  that  longer 
delay  would  mean  mutiny,  the  captain  had  a 
passage  cut  through  the  ice,  and  the  ship  cleared 
the  harbor. 

Then  began  that  drill  which  transforms  raw 
sailors  into  experienced  seamen.  The  first  thing 
which  a  newly  shipped  hand  is  required  to  do  is 
to  learn  the  rigging.  Every  mast  and  spar  and 


MAKING   A   MASTER.  5 

sail  and  rope  must  be  so  familiar  to  him  that  in 
the  darkest  night,  without  a  ray  of  light,  he  can 
handle  them  quickly,  accurately  and  effectively, 
knowing  everything  as  well  by  touch  as  by  sight. 
To  many  a  newly  made  sailor  it  is  one  of  life's 
most  terrible  moments  when  he  is  first  ordered  to 
the  masthead,  that  cruelly- tapering,  suggestively- 
towering  spire,  a  glance  at  whose  skyward  reaches 
causes  the  brain  to  reel  and  the  heart  to  fail. 
But  the  mounting  is  inevitable.  If  one  refuses  it, 
punishment  is  also  inevitable,  and  the  task  still  to 
be  accomplished.  To  a  kind  hearted  master  this 
forcing  of  young  sailors  into  the  rigging  is  an 
almost  heartbreaking  experience  ;  to  the  calloused 
captain  a  most  exasperating  one.  But  the  Swift's 
cabin-boy  wanted  to  go  into  the  rigging,  longed 
to  learn  everything,  great  and  small,  about  a 
vessel,  and  that  right  quickly.  As  the  days  went 
on,  although  my  duties  as  cabin-boy  were  never 
neglected,  I  worked  much  of  each  day  among  the 
men,  constantly  gaining  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
every  form  of  seamen's  craft.  In  the  boats  which 
were  sent  out  to  drill  for  the  capturing  of  whales, 
I  became  an  expert.  While  the  captain  was 
trying  to  teach  the  second  and  third  mate  naviga 
tion,  I  was  sitting  in  a  state-room  opposite  the 
cabin  occupied  by  the  three,  noting  all  the  many 


6  MAKING   A   MASTER. 

times  repeated  instructions,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
lesson  I  went  below  and  worked  out  the  correct 
solution  to  the  problem,  which  I  handed  to  the 
surprised  and  delighted  master,  who  thereafter 
taught  me  navigation  with  great  thoroughness, 
and  depended  upon  me  to  keep  the  ship's  time. 

It  was  continually  being  made  evident  that  this 
captain  of  ready  blows  and  fierce  language  had 
yet  a  place  in  his  heart  which  could  be  touched 
by  real  merit  and  conscientious  devotion  to  duty, 
and  I  often  found  that  presents  followed  kickings, 
and  the  imparting  of  valuable  knowledge  or  the 
granting  of  privileges  a  torrent  of  abuse. 

So  rapid  was  my  advancement  that  during  this 
first  voyage,  as  I  became  boat-steerer,  I  was 
mentally,  morally,  and  physically  becoming  the 
well-rounded  man.  Many  a  cruise  as  mate  and 
master  did  I  make  after  this  initial  one,  but 
that  fifty-four  months  of  untold  hardships,  of 
uncounted  humiliations,  gave  me  the  readiness, 
the  knowledge,  the  experience,  and  the  resolves 
from  the  fusion  of  which  there  was  evolved  the 
captain  of  my  dreams. 


THE  FATTED  CALF. 


There 's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  two  mugs  !  " 

—  O'Hoolihan's  Proverbs. 


"  NOT  by  any  means,"  said  the  Girl.  "  On  the 
other  hand,  you  are  very  vividly  remembered  !  " 

"And  by  what?" 

"  By  lots  of  things  —  glorious  things,  too  —  but 
I  hardly  think  you're  proud  of  them  now  !  " 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know." 

"  I  do,  though,"  said  a  voice  from  across  the 
supper  table.  "  He's  as  proud  of  them  as  ever  he 
was.  Five  years  haven't  changed  him  a  particle. 
He's  just  the  same  incorrigible  young  rascal  he 
was  before  he  went  away  to  sea  !  " 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  said  the  Girl. 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is,"  he  laughed,  "  I'm  truly 
afraid  it  is  !  Just  ask  the  '  old  man.'  He'll  tell 
you.  But "  —  the  jolly  prodigal  turned  to  the 
Girl  at  his  side.  He  blushed  as  her  eyes  met  his. 
It  was  so  long  since  he  had  talked  to  girls.  He 
felt  like  a  tough,  old  right  whale  addressing  a 
little  pink  water-lily. 

"But,"  he  made  bold  to  ask,  "what  are  the 
'  glorious'  things  you  think  I'm  not  proud  of?" 


8  THE    FATTED    CALF. 

"  Mr.  Bobbins,  if  you  please,  I  prefer  not  to 
tell."  She  tossed  her  pretty  head,  and  the  two 
long,  dark  ringlets,  nestling  against  her  soft 
cheeks,  seemed  to  laugh  and  taunt  him.  They 
were  as  bewitchingly  mischievous  as  her  brown 
eyes,  or  the  dimples  that  came  and  went  with  her 
smiles,  or  even  that  defiant  little  toss  of  her  head. 
The  tiny  gold  beads,  too,  and  the  big  cameo  brooch 
were  leagued  together  against  him.  So  were  her 
smooth,  white  shoulders.  For  in  those  good  old 
days  of  Forty-one,  the  Girl,  whose  picture  (in 
daguerrotype,  of  course)  is  still  considered  the 
supreme  triumph  of  New  Bedford  photography, 
was  in  the  first  bloom  of  her  youth  and  beauty. 

"  Oh,  but  you're  not  going  to  get  off  so  easy !  " 
said  still  another  voice.  "  If  Dorothy  won't  tell, 
we  will.  You're  remembered  for  putting  a  flat 
stone  on  the  top  of  Daddy  Jones's  chimney.  Yes, 
and  for  smoking  old  Daddy  out  of  his  cobbler-shop 
as  if  he'd  been  a  poor  hunted  wood-chuck." 

"And  for  writing  a  Bible  verse  on  Daddy  Jones's 
door,"  cried  a  lad  with  a  rose  in  his  coat,  trying 
to  loom  into  view  from  the  lee  side  of  a  much- 
hewn  turkey.  "  Don't  you  remember  ?  It  was 
when  Daddy  had  got  so  lazy  he  never  opened  his 
shop  till  ten  in  the  morning,  and  the  Prodigal  and  I 
wrote  on  his  door,  "He  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth!" 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  9 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  blonde  girl  in  lavendar, 
"  for  that,  too,  and  for  kicking  the  football  against 
Squire  Tomlinson's  window  so  he  came  out  as  mad 
as  a  March  hare,  and  seized  the  ball  and  put  it  in 
the  stove.  0,  we  remember  you  well !  The  deeds 
that  New  Bedford  boys  do  live  after  them.  Besides, 
we've  not  forgotten  how  you  got  another  foot-ball 
next  day  and  filled  it  with  gunpowder,  and  then 
kicked  that  against  the  window  till  the  Squire  came 
and  caught  it  and  put  it  in  the  stove  just  like 
the  first  one,  and  then  there  wasn't  any  stove." 

The  Prodigal  turned  again  to  Dorothy.  "  You 
wouldn't  have  told  those  stories,  would  you  ? " 
He  thought  this  tentative  sally  a  triumph  of  pure 
heroism.  He  was  never  so  timid  in  his  life.  He 
had  chased  whales  and  darted  harpoons  into  their 
slippery  black  backs  out  of  the  dancing  prow  of  a 
whale-boat ;  he  had  gone  among  tattooed  natives 
who  might  have  cooked  and  eaten  him  had  they 
chosen ;  he  had  clambered  down  over  the  ship's 
bows  in  a  storm  to  repair  a  broken  bob-stay,  and 
had  stuck  it  out  bravely  till  the  bob-stay  was 
mended,  though  he  was  plunged  twenty  times 
under  water  before  the  process  was  complete  ;  but 
those  exploits  were  as  nothing  beside  this  highly 
problematic  encounter  with  ringlets,  and  dimples, 
and  soft  eyes,  and  tender  white  shoulders  ! 


10  THE   FATTED    CALF. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Dorothy  (that  was  before  young 
people  were  taught  never  to  say  '  sir '  to  anybody) 
"  I  assure  you  I  wouldn't  have  told  those  stories ; 
tortures  couldn't  have  drawn  them  from  me  !  " 

The  Prodigal  felt  thirty  feet  tall.  Dorothy's 
smile  made  his  heart  leap.  It  was  like  Words 
worth's  rainbow  in  its  effect. 

"  But,"  said  Dorothy,  growing  stern  all  of  a 
sudden,  "  I  expect  to  be  rewarded  for  my  good 
ness.  I've  got  you  in  my  power  now,  and  you 
must  do  my  bidding  to  the  death  !  "  (She  looked 
straight  through  him  with  her  round  eyes.)  "  And 
I  greatly  fear  you'll  fail  of  your  quest ;  and  if  you 
do  fail,  then  you're  no  true  knight !  "  (Dimpling 
again,  her  pretty  cheeks  coming  up  ever  so  little 
to  make  her  eyes  dance  and  sparkle.)  "Wretched 
swain,"  (very  serious  again,  pausing,  with  tight- 
closed  lips),  "  I  command  you  to  confess  all  your 
manifold  sins  and  wickednesses  —  yes,  every  one 
of  them.  Every  jolly  wrong  thing  you  did  while 
you  served  as  cabin  boy  on  the  dear  old  Swift, 
and  if  the  sins  you  confess  aren't  as  picturesque  as 
those  you  committed  in  New  Bedford  before  you 
turned  whaleman,  then"  (a  majestic  toss  of 
the  head  that  set  the  ringlets  caressing  her 
pink  cheeks  again)  "I'll  refuse  to  grant  you 
forgiveness ! " 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  11 

"  Yes,  old  fellow,  you'll  do  as  Dorothy  says,  if 
you're  wise.  She  has  her  way  sooner  or  later 
every  time  and  there's  no  escape.  We  all  have  to 
submit,  and  you're  no  exception,  even  if  you  are 
a  whaleman  !  " 

Submit  ?  Of  course  he  would  submit.  He 
would  have  pushed  a  holy  stone  up  and  down 
the  deck  from  morn  till  dewy  eve  (and  never 
growled)  if  the  Girl  had  bidden  him.  He  would 
have  tarred  the  rigging  from  the  fore-royal  stay 
to  the  topping-lift  (and  left  no  "  holidays")  if  the 
Girl  had  so  ordered.  He  would  have  slushed  the 
mast  in  the  blaze  of  the  torrid  equatorial  sun  (and 
without  inwardly  cursing  the  lot  of  poor  Jack)  if 
Dorothy's  dimpling  smiles  would  have  approved 
his  toil.  And,  as  the  greater  includes  the  less,  he 
was  ready  to  tell  at  her  behest  how  he  had  consti 
tuted  himself  a  persona  non  grata  aboard  the 
whale-ship  Swift. 

He  was  twenty.  At  fifteen  he  had  signed  sail 
ing  papers  that  bound  him  away  as  a  cabin-boy 
on  a  three  years'  voyage  sperm-whaling,  but  the 
three  years  had  stretched  out  to  four,  and  the 
four  to  nearly  five.  At  last  he  was  home  again, 
after  roving  so  long  among  the  islands  of  the 
South  Pacific.  He  had  just  arrived.  In  fact, 
twenty-four  hours  had  not  yet  gone  by  since  he 


12  THE   FATTED    CALF. 

had  rushed  in  upon  his  mother  and  been  formally 
introduced  to  his  own  sisters,  who  had  grown  to 
unrecognizable  dimensions  since  his  departure; 
and  this  grand  New  England  banquet  was  being 
given  in  his  honor  by  neighbors  just  over  the  way. 
The  sixteen  young  people  around  the  table  were 
his  old  schoolmates.  They  called  him  the  Prodi 
gal  ;  but  well  they  knew  that  the  boy  had  come 
home  unstained  from  his  wanderings.  With  equal 
pertinence,  and  not  less,  they  called  the  turkey  a 
«  fatted  calf." 

He  had  perhaps  an  unusually  pleasant  way  of 
telling  a  story,  this  young  sea-rover  —  a  way  that 
has  remained  with  him  until  this  day.  He  hoists 
his  Blue  Peter,  heaves  up  his  mud-hook,  shakes 
out  his  canvas  and  puts  to  sea.  Nobody  tries  to 
help  him.  He  sails  over  his  course  as  straight  as 
a  well-found  ship,  and  he  comes  into  port  with  a 
new  coat  of  paint,  and  pendant  flying. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Prodigal,  "  if  I  must,  I  must. 
And  I'll  begin  by  telling  you  how  the  old  man  put 
his  watch  in  soak." 

"Stop!"  cried  the  Girl.  "I  object.  This  is 
not  to  be  a  story  about  an  old  gentleman.  What's 
more,  it's  not  to  be  told  in  sailor  language.  It's 
to  be  about  yourself  "  (such  a  sweet  tone  as  she 
said  "  yourself  ")  "  and  it's  to  be  told  in  faultless 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  13 

New  Bedford  English  (eyes  again,  utterly  distract 
ing)  or  I'll  —  !  " 

"  But,"  the  Prodigal  answered,  "  you've  not  yet 
heard  the  story.  Listen.  The  '  old  man '  is  the 
captain  (they  always  call  him  so  on  shipboard) ; 
6  putting  one's  watch  in  soak '  is  not  a  sea-term  at 
all ;  and  the  story  is  really  about  me,  and  it's  told 
in  the  only  language  I  know,  for  I've  lived  in  the 
cabin  like  a  fine  gentleman.  You  must  remember 
that  the  boy's  not  allowed  to  go  before  the  mast. 

"  So,  here  goes."  He  was  now  under  way.  He 
would  forge  ahead,  all  fluking,  without  further 
interruption. 

"  After  we'd  been  about  six  months  out  from 
home,  we  anchored  at  Porter's,  one  of  the  Galla- 
pagos  Islands,  and  there  we  found  an  old  apple- 
bowed,  square-sterned,  painted-ported  bark,  the 
Surprise,  of  Wilmington,  Cap'n  Crocker.  Next 
morning  the  two  old  men  —  Crocker  and  my  own 
cap'n  —  gave  liberty  on  shore  for  all  hands,  ex 
cept  cooks,  stewards,  and  boys,  to  hunt  terrapin, 
if  you  call  that  liberty.  After  they  had  landed, 
the  old  man  and  Crocker  called  us  boys  and  took 
us  ashore  to  help  them  try  and  catch  a  seal. 
Mighty  glad  we  were  to  go. 

"  We  landed  on  a  little  island,  only  three  miles 
round  and  covered  with  woods.  It  was  high  and 
very  rugged. 


14  THE  FATTED  CALF. 

"  The  cap'ns  gave  us  youngsters  leave  to  ramble 
about  for  an  hour,  so  we  thought  we'd  cross  the 
island,  get  down  to  the  shore  on  the  other  side, 
and  follow  the  beach  back  to  the  boat.  We  had 
high  hopes  of  finding  a  seal,  for  neither  of  us  had 
ever  seen  one  alive. 

"  It  was  easy  enough  getting  to  the  top  of  the 
island,  but  from  there  on  it  was  all  a  tangle  of 
gullies  and  ravines,  and  when  we  finally  came  to 
the  other  side  we  found  ourselves  looking  down 
from  the  edge  of  a  three-hundred-foot  cliff.  It 
made  us  dizzy,  as  you  may  imagine,  to  peer  over 
it,  but  we  lay  out  flat  on  our  stomachs  and  rested 
our  heads  on  our  hands  and  our  elbows  on  the 
rocks,  and  studied  that  bluff.  It  was  straight 
up  and  down,  like  the  Swift's  checkered  sides. 
There  was  no  beach  at  the  bottom.  There 
was  a  dead  flat  calm,  no  waves  at  all  save  the 
everlasting  heave  and  swell  that  never  ceased  and 
never  will  cease ;  and  yet  the  breakers  were 
white  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  and  we  could  hear 
their  roar.  It  was  what  we  sailors  call  an  iron- 
bound  coast. 

"  Our  hearts  went  down  into  the  soles  of  our 
boots.  Climb  down  that  precipice  ?  Crawl  along 
at  the  water's  edge  ?  Not  by  a  jugful ! 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  15 

"  Suddenly  it  occured  to  us  we  must  have  been 
gone  a  pretty  long  hour.  So  we  started  back 
—  disappointed  and  scared  and  ashamed  —  the 
way  we  had  come,  as  well  as  we  could  judge, 
and  we  were  not  far  wrong.  But  everything  was 
against  us.  Thorns  and  brambles  caught  us,  one 
or  both.  Steep  crags  got  in  our  way  on  purpose. 
Gullies  sank  under  our  feet.  So  fully  four  hours 
had  gone  by  when  we  came  in  view  of  the  landing 
place  again.  The  cap'ns  were  hallooing  with  all 
their  might,  but  we  were  too  scared  to  answer 
and  so  kept  still.  That  didn't  pay,  though.  When 
the  old  man  clapped  his  eyes  on  me,  he  hollered 
out  at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  '  Come  here,  you 
rascal.  I'll  learn  you  to  run  away  !  I'll  learn 
you  to  keep  me  waiting !  Come  here  till  I  make 
a  little  spread-eaglet  of  you  !  I'll  learn  you  this 
lesson  so  it'll  stick  in  your  back  as  well  as  your 
head  !  Come  !  Are  you  dead  ?  Show  a  leg  there  ! ' 

"  With  that  the  old  man  grabbed  hold  of  the 
boat's  warp  and  was  going  to  give  me  a  thrashing 
with  the  bitter  end  of  it.  But  the  other  cap'n 
begged  me  off. 

" '  Well,'  said  the  old  man, '  I'll  put  druggs  on 
the  rascal  so  he  won't  run  out  so  blamed  swift. 
Here's  what  I'll  do.  Cap'n  Crocker  can  have  his 
way  about  the  little  spread-eaglet,  but  I'll  have 


16  THE  FATTED  CALF. 

mine  about  that  twenty-pound  stone  over  yonder 
there.  Come,  sonny  wax,  bring  me  that  flat  stone 
—  that  big,  round  one,  with  the  barnacles  all 
over  it ! ' 

"  I  went  and  brought  the  stone.  It  was  shaped 
like  Daddy  Jones's  lapstone  and  it  weighed  not  an 
ounce  under  twenty  pounds.  The  old  tyrant  took 
that  stone  and  slung  it  to  my  back  with  a  strong 
cord  slipped  round  in  a  lark's  head  knot. 

" c  Now/  he  roared,  '  I  guess  you'll  not  get  out 
of  hailing  distance  again  this  cruise  ! ' 

"  Then  we  pushed  the  boat  off  through  the 
rollers  and  made  for  the  large  island.  I  tugged 
at  my  oar  with  the  big  stone  banging  against  my 
shoulder-blades  and  jabbing  the  barnacles  into  my 
back.  I  would  rather  have  taken  the  rope-ending. 

"  I  thought  we'd  never  get  ashore,  but  at  last 
we  did.  We  rushed  the  boat  out  of  the  water  on 
a  fine  sand  beach,  a  mile  or  more  long  and  as 
straight  as  a  street. 

"  The  cap'ns  started  ahead,  keeping  a  bright 
lookout  for  seals,  but  we  boys  lagged  behind, 
and  as  soon  as  we  dared  we  got  a  new  stone,  the 
same  shape  but  only  about  half  as  heavy,  and 
no  barnacles  on  it,  and  we  put  it  in  place  of  the 
twenty-pounder  on  my  back.  I  tell  you,  it  was  a 
relief ! 


"BLAST  THE  BOY  !     I'VE  GOT  A  PRETTY  DRENCHING.' 


THE    FATTED    CALF. 


17 


"  The  cap'ns  had  got  a  long  way  in  the  lead  — 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  at  the  very  least  —  when  sud 
denly  I  heard  a  rifle-shot  and  saw  a  moving  puff 
of  blue  smoke. 

"  The  old  man  had  shot  a  seal,  and  the  wounded 
beast  was  dancing  around  the  beach  like  a  man  in 
a  sack-race,  and  every  jump  he  made  brought  him 
a  little  nearer  the  water. 

"  The  old  man  wanted  me  now  as  he'd  never 
wanted  me  before,  for  I  had  the  powder  and  balls 
in  my  pocket  to  reload  his  rifle.  He  hollered  like 
mad. 

46 '  Hurry  up,  you  scoundrel !  Do  you  hear  ? 
Quick  !  Drop  your  ballast,  I  tell  you  ;  quick,  or 
I'll  thrash  you !  Quick  I  say !  Quick  !  QUICK  !  L 
QUICK  ! !  ! ' 

"  I  ran  as  fast  as  I  could,  but  the  sand  was  soft 
and  the  stone  was  hard  and  I  made  sorry  work 
of  it. 

"  The  old  man  chased  the  seal  into  the  water 
with  a  club,  but  as  soon  as  the  animal  got  afloat 
in  the  surf  he  was  the  better  off  for  the  change. 
He  dashed  away  for  life  and  liberty  —  the  old 
man  after  him,  dealing  murderous  blows  with  the 
cudgel.  As  I  came  up,  puffing  and  blowing  like  a 
winded  walrus,  the  old  man  was  in  up  to  his  ears 
in  salt  water  and  the  seal  was  bleeding  from  a 

2 


18 


THE    FATTED    CALF. 


dozen  gashes  at  once.  Another  swing  of  the  club 
put  him  out  of  his  misery. 

"The  old  man  came  splashing  and  sputtering 
out  of  the  surf,  dragging  his  lifeless  prey  after 
him. 

"  '  Blast  the  boy/  he  yelled,  '  I've  got  a  pretty 
drenching/ 

"  Cap'n  Crocker  roared  with  laughter.  '  Better 
have  left  the  boy  free  to  run,  sir !  ' 

"  The  old  man  shook  himself  like  a  wet  dog. 

"  (  Cap'n/  cried  Crocker,  rolling  from  side  to 
side  with  amusement,  '  can  you  tell  me  the  time 
o'  day  ? ' 

"  The  old  man  felt  for  his  watch,  only  to  dis 
cover  that  he  had  ruined  it  in  the  surf ! 

"  Crocker  stamped  about  the  beach,  bellowing 
like  a  facetious  big  bull.  '  0-ho-ho  !  '  he  howled, 
I've  seen  many  a  beautiful  timepiece  go  in  soak 
in  my  day,  but  never  before  on  account  of  a 
rascally  cabin  boy  with  a  stone  on  his  back !  ' 

"  So  that's  how  the  old  man  put  his  watch  in 
soak,  your  majesty.  Please,  may  I  stop  now  ?  " 

He  looked  into  Dorothy's  eyes  as  he  spoke. 
They  looked  into  his.  There  was  nothing  re 
markable  in  that,  but  nevertheless  he  felt  as  if  he 
had  taken  something  that  didn't  belong  to  him. 
However,  he  had  no  desire  to  put  it  back. 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  19 

"  I  forgive  thee  "  said  the  girl.  "  Isn't  that  what 
you  hope  from  me?"  A  burst  of  generous  laughter 
shook  the  table. 

"  What  did  we  tell  you  ? "  said  he  of  the  red 
rose.  "  Just  the  same  rogue  as  before  he  turned 
blubber-hunter.  Daddy  Jones  was  right.  You 
remember  he  said,  <  Glad  he's  gone — pesky  glad, 
but  I  pity  that  there  cap'n  o'  his'n ! ' 

Turkey,  doughnuts,  mince-pie,  and  sweet  cider 
had  found  their  way  to  destruction.  The  merry 
party  left  the  table  and  trooped  into  the  large, 
old-fashioned  parlor,  where  the  fun  began  afresh. 
There  was  dancing,  in  the  quaint  manner  now 
gone  by ;  there  were  games,  of  the  hilarious 
sort  no  longer  in  vogue;  there  were  songs 
—  forgotten,  most  of  them,  long  ere  this.  The 
Prodigal  thought  it  a  sumptuous  occasion.  For 
five  years  he  had  not  sat  in  a  cushioned  chair 
or  stepped  upon  a  carpeted  floor.  To  his  sailorly 
eyes  that  staid  and  demure  parlor,  with  its  tall 
looking-glasses,  its  marbled  wall-paper,  and  its 
solemn,  mahogany  furniture,  was  princely  mag 
nificence.  To  all  intents  it  far  outshone  the 
wealth  of  Ormus  and  of  Ind. 

But  the  Girl  was  there  —  not  always  at  his  side, 
but  always  responsive.  Even  if  she  sat,  for  the 
moment,  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  under 


20  THE    FATTED    CALF. 

the  silver  candalabra,  she  made  him  feel  that  her 
interest  was  in  him.  Was  it  her  eyes  ?  Perhaps 
—  for  they  were  always  brightest  as  they  met  his. 
Or  was  it  her  pretty  posture  ?  Very  likely  —  for 
it  was  always  one  of  eager  attention  when  he 
spoke.  He  thought  for  a  moment  that  he  was 
being  mischievously  pursued.  Then  he  thought 
it  rather  nice  to  be  pursued.  Finally  he  thought 
the  Girl  was  not  at  all  to  blame  for  pursuing  so 
interesting  a  person  as  the  returned  Prodigal  from 
the  South  Pacific.  Besides,  had  not  he  done  all 
he  knew  how,  in  his  sailorly  way,  to  interest  the 
Girl? 

"You  didn't  do  as  you  promised,"  she  said, 
when  they  chanced  to  come  side  by  side  again. 
"  You  promised  to  confess  all  your  sins,  and  you 
stopped  with  one  —  though  it  was  a  very  good 
one.  And  now,  sir,  if  you  don't  confess  another 
this  very  minute  if  not  sooner,  I'll  ostracize 
you ! " 

"  How's  that  done?" 

"  You'll  find  out  to  your  grief,"  said  the  red 
rose,  "if  you  don't  tell  another  story  as  good  as 
the  last,  and  that  immediately.'' 

"  Yes,  yes,"  they  all  cried,  "  confess  your  sins 
or  we'll  ostracize  you,  too,  and  it'll  be  some 
thing  awful  —  awful !  " 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  21 

They  drew  their  chairs  close  around  the  Prodi 
gal.  There  was  no  way  of  escape.  He  was 
secretly  glad  there  was  none. 

Doubtless  it  was  not  wholly  by  accident  that 
Dorothy  sat  directly  in  front  of  him.  Her  seat 
was  a  sort  of  low  hassock.  She  curled  herself 
round  it  prettily,  one  knee  raised,  one  little  slipper 
peeping  out  from  the  edge  of  her  yellow  satin 
gown,  her  hands  clasped  over  her  knee,  and  her 
sweet  face  lifted  up  toward  his.  A  girl  is  her 
loveliest  when  she  looks  up.  Probably  that  is 
why  Dorothy  had  chosen  the  hassock. 

"  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must.  This  time  I'll  tell 
you  about  the  Ten  Commandments. 

"  One  Sunday,  not  so  very  long  after  the  old 
man  had  put  his  watch  in  soak,  I  happened  to  be 
feeling  a  bit  out  of  sorts.  I  knew  that  if  I  told 
the  old  man  I  was  sick  he'd  dose  me  with  castor 
oil  every  hour  for  a  week.  So  I  cast  about  for  a 
nice,  quiet  place  to  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep.  I 
found  just  what  I  wanted  and,  willingly  running 
the  risk  of  punishment,  I  curled  myself  up  in  the 
second  mate's  bunk  and  sailed  for  the  land  of  Nod. 

"  Now  it  was  my  duty  to  take  the  hog-yoke  on 
deck  at  eleven  o'clock."  (Dorothy's  eyes  said, 
"  What,  sir,  do  you  mean  by  a  hog-yoke?") 
"  That's  the  quadrant,  you  know,  for  the  old  man 


22  THE  FATTED  CALF. 

to  shoot  the  sun "  (a  frown  of  perplexity  on 
Dorothy's  white  forehead)  —  "I  mean,  for  the  old 
man  to  take  the  sun's  altitude  and  see  what 
latitude  we  were  in.  That's  the  only  safe  way  to 
steer  a  ship,  you  know. 

"But  that  day  the  quadrant  didn't  come  on 
deck  in  time.  In  fact,  it  didn't  come  at  all. 

"  The  old  man  was  frantic.  He  set  all  hands 
searching  for  me.  They  hunted  in  the  cabin, 
they  hunted  in  the  fo'c'sle  —  that's  where  the 
sailors  live,  you  know ;  you  call  it  (  forecastle/ 
and  that's  wrong  —  and  they  hunted  in  the  steer 
age  ;  but  nobody  could  find  me. 

"Then  the  old  man  got  anxious.  He  hailed 
the  men  at  the  mast-heads  —  wanted  to  know  if 
they'd  seen  anything  floating  on  the  water  astern 
of  the  ship,  which  meant,  of  course,  had  the  cabin 
boy  gone  overboard  ?  At  last  the  old  man  got  so 
worried  he  wasn't  content  with  ordering  other 
folks  to  hunt,  but  even  turned  to  and  hunted 
for  me  himself. 

"Now  all  this  while  I  was  dreaming  of  an 
enchanted  island,  loaded  with  treasures,  and  I  was 
just  going  to  be  married  to  the  queen  of  the 
island,  when  there  came  a  tremendous  yank  at  my 
collar,  and  the  old  man  landed  me  on  the  floor 
with  a  shock  that  all  but  shivered  my  timbers  and 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  23 

studded  the  ceiling  with  all  the  blazing  stars  in 
creation. 

"  The  old  man  kicked  me  up  the  cabin  stairway 
and  gave  me  half  an  hour  to  think.  Meanwhile, 
he  was  thinking,  I  knew  that.  He  was  inventing 
some  wonderful  new  kind  of  punishment,  and  he 
was  going  to  try  it  on  me  as  soon  as  he'd  got  it 
all  invented. 

"  At  last  he  came  on  deck.  '  Boy/  he  shouted, 
'  can  you  say  the  Ten  Commandments  ?  ' 

"  '  No,  sir/  I  answered.  '  I  used  to  when  I  was 
in  Sunday  school,  but  I  can't  now,  sir/ 

" '  Then  you  just  tumble  down  the  cabin  stairs 
and  bring  the  Bible  on  deck/ 

"  I  did  as  the  old  man  said,  and  then  he  gave 
me  the  funniest  order  you  ever  heard  on  a  ship. 
i  Go  out  on  the  end  o'  that  spanker-boom,  take 
that  Bible  along  with  you,  and  don't  you  dare  to 
come  back  till  you  can  say  the  Ten  Command 
ments  from  beginning  to  end  without  a  single 
mistake,  or  I'll  make  a  little  spread  eaglet  of  you ! 
That's  what  I'll  do !  > 

"  What  ?  Don't  know  what  the  spanker-boom 
is  ?  Why,  it's  the  big  round  spar  that  keeps  the 
spanker  down,  and  the  spanker,  you  know,  is  the 
monstrous  hind  sail  of  the  ship.  What  a  place  to 
learn  the  Ten  Commandments  by  heart!  That 


24  THE    FATTED    CALF. 

spanker-boom  is  the  unsteadiest  piece  of  stick 
aboard  any  vessel,  and  the  further  out  you  go  the 
livelier  it  swings. 

"  Well,  I  tucked  the  book  under  my  left  arm, 
and  crawled  along  that  swinging  boom,  way  out 
over  the  hurricane  house  and  far  beyond  the 
ship's  stern.  When  I  got  to  the  end  of  it?  I 
leaned  my  breast  against  the  topping-lift,  with  one 
arm  curled  round  it,  and  laced  my  legs  together 
under  the  boom. 

"  Then  I  began  a  hunt  for  the  Ten  Command 
ments.  I  hadn't  the  faintest  notion  where  to  look 
for  them.  First  I  thought  I'd  try  Revelation. 
Next  it  seemed  more  likely  they'd  turn  up  some 
where  in  Ruth..  Again,  I  had  an  impulse  that 
led  me  toward  Jonah.  Jonah  is  a  very  popular 
book  among  sailors.  It's  almost  as  good  as  the 
story  of  Paul's  shipwreck,  where  they  put  haw 
sers  round  and  round  the  ship,  just  as  if  they 
were  strapping  a  trunk. 

"  But  at  last  I  concluded  to  begin  at  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis,  and  eat  along  to  windward  till 
I  raised  the  Ten  Commandments.  Happy  thought ! 
I  found  them  in  fifteen  minutes.  Then  I  set 
about  learning  them. 

"  The  boom  swung  in  the  wind,  the  topping- 
lift  quivered  from  the  strain  on  it,  the  white  wake 


'WHAT  A  PLACE  TO  LEARN  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS  BY  HEART. 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  25 

ran  bubbling  under  me,  and  the  wind  blew  the 
pages  of  the  Bible  so  I  thought  it  would  tear  them 
out  and  whisk  them  away.  Now  and  then  I  would 
look  up.  Every  man  on  deck  was  staring  aft  and 
wondered  what  in  the  name  of  hemp  and  oakum 
the  old  man  had  sent  the  boy  out  there  for ! 

"  As  soon  as  I  got  the  Commandments  so  I 
could  say  them,  I  crawled  back  on  deck  and  said 
my  piece  to  the  old  man  —  every  word  right. 
The  old  man  told  me  <  not  to  forget  'em,  for  if  I 
did  he'd  learn  'em  into  my  back  with  a  rope's  end 
so  they'd  never  come  out.' 

"  Several  Sundays  later,  instead  of  giving  the 
crew  a  day  of  comparative  rest,  the  old  man 
found  them  some  extra  work  to  do.  He  con 
formed  to  the  spirit  of  the  old  rhyme, 

" '  Six  days  shalt  thou  work  and  do  all  thou  art  able, 

And  on  the  seventh,  holy-stone  the  deck  and  clean-scrape 
the  cable.' 

But  the  particular  application  he  gave  it  was,  — 
having  an  old  torn  sail  got  on  deck  and  mended. 
The  crew  were  growling  as  they  went  about  their 
task.  They  were  as  sullen  as  a  crowd  of  school 
boys  kept  in  at  recess. 

"I  thought  I'd  see  if  I  could  change  that  a 
little.  So  when  the  old  man  came  on  deck,  I 


26  THE  FATTED  CALF. 

strolled  past  him,  muttering  just  loud  enough  for 
him  to  hear  :  '  Remember-the-Sabbath-day-to 
keep-it-holy-six-days-shalt-thou-labor-  and  -  do 
all-thy- work-but  -  the  -  seventh-day-is-the-Sab- 
bath-of-the-Lord-thy-God-in-it-thou-shalt  -  not 
do-any-work-thou-nor-thy-mate  -  nor  -  thy-sec- 
ond  -  mate  -  nor  -  thy  -  third-  mate-nor-thy-crew 
nor— thy-cook— nor— thy— carpenter— nor— thy-cooper 
nor-thy-cabin-boy . ' 

"  The  old  man  pretended  he  didn't  hear  me,  but 
after  awhile  he  went  below  and  I  heard  his  bell  ring. 

"  So  down  I  tumbled,  and  as  soon  as  the  old 
man  got  his  face  straight  he  said,  <  Boy,  what  day 
is  this  ? ' 

"  4  Sunday,  sir/ 

"  '  That  so  ?  Then  you  go  straight  to  the  chief 
mate  and  tell  him  I  say  knock  off  work  on  that 
sail  and  quit  breaking  the  Sabbath  day !  ' 

"  After  that  we  used  to  get  a  little  rest  of  a 
Sunday ;  and  that's  the  sum  and  substance  of  the 
Ten  Commandment  story.  Please  may  I  stop  ?  " 

"  Drop  anchor !  "  laughed  the  girl.  Then  the 
Prodigal  suggested  a  fresh  game,  and  the  scene 
shifted  anew.  Instead  of  a  group  around  the 
Prodigal,  you  had  a  group  around  Dorothy. 

Now  I  had  all  along  been  thinking — what !  I? 
Ah,  I've  let  Pussy  pop  out  of  my  bag  of  discretion! 


THE   FATTED    CALF.  27 

Yes,  I.  A  truce  to  disguises !  The  Prodigal 
was  myself,  or  the  self  that  was  then  —  Charlie 
Robbins,  as  they  all  called  me  —  Capn'n  Bobbins, 
as  they  call  me  today. 

To  resume  (and  with  an  easier  conscience)  T, 
Charlie  Robbins,  cabin-boy,  was  thinking  that 
Dorothy  was  the  sweetest  girl  in  the  world,  that 
I  had  made  a  profound  impression  upon  her,  and 
that  my  life  would  be  an  arid  waste  if  I  let  her 
escape  me.  She  was  so  distractingly  pretty,  and 
so  dangerously  clever.  I  remembered  that  when 
I  bade  her  good-bye  five  years  ago  she  was  a  year 
younger  than  I.  Gratifying  reflection  —  she  must 
be  so,  still ! 

I  was  building  air-castles. 

I  knew  I  must  move  rapidly.  Girls  are  so  dif 
ferent  from  whales  —  at  least  to  whalemen.  For 
you  get  fast  to  a  whale  and  if  he  runs,  you  run ; 
or  if  he  goes  down,  you  wait  till  he  conies  up 
again.  Barring  accidents,  it's  only  a  matter  of 
time  till  you  kill  him  or  he  kills  you.  But  with 
girls  its  more  complicated.  Sometimes  you're  not 
fast  to  them  when  you  think  you  are.  Sometimes 
they  go  down  and  never  come  up  again.  And 
when  you're  a  whaleman  you've  little  time  for 
courting.  The  stay  in  a  home  port  is  shockingly 
short.  That  ship  in  the  harbor  won't  lay  her 


28 


THE  FATTED  CALF. 


main  yard  aback  and  wait  till  the  chase  is  ended. 
You  must  be  quick. 

I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  improve  the 
first  and  all  subsequent  opportunities  of  charming, 
captivating  and  otherwise  hypnotizing  this  unex 
ampled  young  lady.  Whatever  form  later  chances 
might  assume,  the  near  and  most  available  one 
was  my  fund  of  sea-yarns.  I  was  a  sort  of  blubber- 
hunting  Othello.  She  was  my  incomparable 
Desdemona. 

So  I  lowered  away,  every  chance  I  got. 

Her  taste,  I  thought,  was  peculiar.  She  cared 
little  or  nothing  for  whales  that  tossed  one's  boat 
in  the  air  with  their  flukes,  or  for  the  cannibal 
islanders  that  cook  one  and  eat  one,  or  for  hurri 
canes  and  tidal  waves  and  waterspouts  and  the 
terrors  of  "the  vasty  deep."  She  demanded 
yarns  about  me  (how  gratifying ! )  and  about  my 
"sins."  Every  time  she  would  look  as  stern 
as  a  whaler's  skipper  and  say,  "  Avast  there !  " 
and  then  laugh  —  so  prettily  that  I  inwardly 
cursed  myself  for  ever  having  adopted  the  whale 
man's  lot  —  and  then  say,  "  Go  on,  Mr.  Bobbins  ! 
I  must  have  the  next  story  now  —  and  as  good 
as  the  last,  or  I'll  ostracize  you !  " 

They  were  a  curious  skein  of  yarns.  How  I 
was  sent  to  get  the  grindstone  from  the  locker 


THE    FATTED    CALF.  21) 

under  the  cabin-stairs,  drew  out  a  bag  of  letters, 
and  in  so  doing  knocked  the  grindstone  against  a 
demijohn  of  turpentine,  which  toppled  over  help 
lessly,  a  reeking,  jingling  wreck,  with  the  conse 
quence  that  thereafter  the  old  man  made  me  keep 
a  Domesday  Book,  to  record  everything  I  managed 
to  lose  or  break  on  board  the  ship  ;  how  I  came  to 
be  held  to  blame  whenever  a  tool  was  mislaid, 
with  the  penalty  of  having  to  write  it  in  the  Book 
of  Judgment,  so  that  by-and-by  when  I  found  a 
lost  article  I  secretly  pitched  it  overboard  rather 
than  be  blamed  for  finding  it ;  how,  one  Sunday 
morning,  the  old  man  took  an  observation  of  the 
sun  and  gave  the  data  to  me  to  work  out  the 
reckoning,  but  was  not  pleased  with  my  answer, 
and  accordingly  grabbed  me  by  the  hair  and  lifted 
me  clean  off  the  deck,  so  that  I  took  care  to  get 
my  hair  cut  immediately  ;  and  when  the  old  man 
made  another  observation  that  afternoon  and  gave 
it  to  me  in  the  same  way  and  with  the  same 
result,  he  grabbed  for  my  hair  again  and,  missing 
that,  lifted  me  off  the  deck  by  my  ears,  saying 
he'd  "  stretch  'em  out  as  long  as  a  jackass !  " 
and  this  despite  the  fact  that  I  was  right  and  he 
was  wrong,  for  we  were  cruising  down  the  line 
and  during  the  night  we  had  crossed  the  Equator, 
so  that  we  had  to  apply  our  corrections  differ- 


30 


THE   FATTED    CALF. 


ently ;  and  also  how  I  stole  the  cabin  molasses 
keg  while  we  were  at  Talcuhano,  and  sold  the 
molasses  in  apulparee  on  shore,  upon  agreement 
that  the  empty  keg  must  be  brought  aboard  next 
evening.  But  the  ship  sailed  in  the  morning  and 
both  keg  and  molasses  were  left  behind.  Think 
of  the  fix  that  put  me  in  !  Presently  the  steward 
wanted  some  molasses  for  the  "  doctor"  to  cook 
with,  —  but  where  in  the  name  of  the  Great 
Horned  Spoon  was  that  precious  molasses  keg  ? 
Of  course  I  knew  nothing  about  it  —  absolutely 
nothing  —  vastly  less  than  nothing  !  The  men 
searched  everywhere,  and  the  further  they  searched 
the  madder  they  got.  They  swore  like  great 
whales.  But  that  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  My  con 
science  swore,  too.  The  thought  of  lying  galled 
me  and  cut  me,  till  at  last  I  went  to  the  old  man 
and  confessed  my  crime.  That  made  me  feel  a 
whole  lot  better,  but  it  made  the  old  man  feel  a 
whole  lot  worse  !  "  Blast  you,  boy,  I'll  get  even 
with  you !  You  just  waltz  forward  and  tell  the 
cooper  I  say  to  give  you  a  dozen  barrel-staves. 
I'm  going  to  learn  you  a  lesson  that'll  last  you 
way  over  into  the  next  world  !  "  When  I  came 
back  with  the  barrel-staves,  the  old  man  stationed 
me  in  the  waist,  where  everybody  on  board  could 
watch  me,  and  said,  u  Now,  sonny  wax,  you  take 


THE   FATTED    CALF.  31 

this  saw  and  this  plane  the  carpenter's  brought 
you,  and  you  make  a  new  keg  to  take  the  place  of 
the  one  you've  stolen.  Here's  a  chance  to  show 
your  talent.  The  crew' 11  come  around  you  and 
give  you  advice  once  in  a  while  and  encourage 
you,  and  when  the  pretty  creature's  all  done 
they'll  hold  up  their  hands  and  admire  it !  "  I 
worked  four  days.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  had 
something  in  the  shape  of  a  keg,  but  it  wouldn't 
hold  water  or  molasses  any  more  than  the  "  doc 
tor's  "  cullender.  When  these  four  days  of  atone 
ment  were  over,  the  captain  told  me  to  quit. 
I  quitted. 

How  swiftly  that  pleasant  evening  ran  by ! 
The  merry  party  broke  up  all  too  soon,  I  thought. 
And  yet  not  too  soon.  For  one  reason,  at  least,  I 
was  glad  it  was  over.  Now  I  should  see  Dorothy 
home. 

It  was  in  the  doorway,  after  the  general  and 
particular  good-nights,  that  I  asked  her  if  I  might. 

Oh,  tragical  deception  !  The  Girl  gave  me  one 
defiant  flash 'from  her  brown  eyes,  and  ran  like 
a  deer ! 

That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  her. 

I  went  home  alone. 

Six  weeks  later  I  sailed  away  in  the  Balaena, 
sperm-whaling  again. 


THAT  GREAT  LEVIATHAN. 

THE  case  of  Dorothy  being  now  got  well  out 
of  the  way,  I  turn,  and  not  without  a  grateful 
sense  of  relief,  to  weightier  considerations. 

For  this  gam  of  mine  —  you  know  the  term  ? 
—  is  meant  to  set  forth  the  grave  as  well  as 
the  trivial  interests  of  that  young  madcap  who 
was  so  early,  and  withal  so  auspiciously,  put  afloat 
in  the  whaling  ship  Swift.  It  would,  in  truth, 
be  far  from  fair  to  leave  the  reader  in  possession 
of  the  startling  revelations  of  the  last  chapter, 
unless,  over  against  those  light  and  altogether 
frivolous  narratives,  be  set  some  mention  of  the 
serious  business  of  whaling,  —  its  toil,  its  peril, 
its  joy  and  thrill,  to  say  nothing  of  its  magical 
fascination  for  a  boy  of  fifteen. 

Pleasantly  my  memory  runs  back  sixty  years  to 
the  day  of  our  departure.  Stars  and  stripes  at  the 
peak,  Blue  Peter  at  the  fore ;  officers  and  crew 
on  board  ;  four  boats  on  the  cranes  ;  and  the  hold 
filled  with  white  oak  casks  and  a  stock  of  pro 
visions  to  last  three  years  and  more;  then,  as 
somebody  or  other  says,  "Waiting  is  what?" 

Waiting  is  the  pilot.  But,  once  aboard,  his 
majesty  takes  command,  and  the  voyage  is  begun. 


THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN.  33 

The  captain,  while  the  pilot  remains  in  the  ship, 
is  a  mere  inactive  looker-on,  a  person  of  no  more 
consequence  than  a  passenger  or  a  spare  figure 
head. 

"  Mr.  Mate,  are  you  all  ready  ?  " 

"  All  ready,  sir  ?  " 

"  Then  heave  ahead  !  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir.     Man  the  windlass !  " 

Now  comes  the  confusion,  the  hurrying  and 
blundering,  invariably  seen  on  board  a  ship  when 
she  is  getting  under  way  with  a  crew  made  up 
largely  of  green  hands ;  then  an  attempt  on  the 
part  of  the  officers  to  bring  something  like  order 
out  of  this  hurly-burly ;  and  while  at  every  turn 
of  the  powerful  windlass  the  chain  cable  rattles 
heavily  on  deck,  the  Swift  walks  steadily  up  to 
her  anchor  as  if  impatient  for  the  word  to  spread 
her  white  wings  and  be  away. 

"  A-vast  heaving,"  shouts  the  first  officer.  "  A 
short  stay  peak,  sir !  " 

"Aye,  aye,"  responds  the  pilot. 

"  Let  fall  and  sheet  home  top-s'ls  and  to'- 
gal'n-s'ls !  " 

Away  sprang  half  a  dozen  men  aloft,  and  soon 
the  broad  sheets  of  canvas  are  unfurled  and  hauled 
home  and  the  yards  are  mast-headed. 

Next  a  volley  of  incomprehensible  orders : 

3 


34  THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN. 

"  Brace  head  yards  a-starboard  !  " 

"  Lay  helm  aport !  " 

"  Heave  up  the  anchor  !  " 

The  first  mate  answers,  "  All  away,  sir ! "  and 
you  know  then  that  the  good  ship  has  loosed  her 
hold  on  terra  firma,  and  you  watch  her  move 
ments,  as  —  gracefully  as  a  girl  in  a  minuet  —  she 
turns  her  head  seaward. 

The  pilot  springs  to  the  bow,  now  and  again 
shouting  his  orders  to  the  helmsmen,  who  invari 
ably  echoes  the  words,  that  there  may  be  no 
possibility  of  mistake. 

And  so,  with  a  breeze  fresh  and  free,  we  sped 
down  the  bay,  borrowing  a  little,  now  on  one 
shore,  then  on  the  other,  or  shaving  close  to  some 
rocky  ledge,  as  our  sharp-eyed,  skillful  guide 
might  direct,  in  order  to  shorten  our  course  from 
the  confines  of  harbor  to  the  freedom  of  the 
open  sea. 

A  little  farther,  and  we  open  up  Gay  Head 
lighthouse  on  the  western  end  of  Martha's  Vine 
yard,  so  called  from  the  abundance  of  wild  grape 
vines  growing  there.  Once  outside,  the  tiny  pilot- 
boat,  which  has  been  dodging  about  the  heavy 
ship  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  shoots  alongside^  and 
his  lordship  the  pilot  and  our  friends,  mostly 
men  of  the  sea,  hasten  to  make  their  adieus,  and 


THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN.  35 

descend  to  the  restless  little  craft  that  will  soon 
take  them  back  to  their  homes.  The  lingering 
grasp  of  hands,  the  ill-concealed  tremor  of  fare 
wells,  and  the  moistened,  glistening  eye,  tell  of 
the  friendship  of  men  who  have  together  battled 
with  the  giant  seas  and  fierce  winds  of  the  Horn, 
who  have  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  when  short 
ening  the  wings  of  their  hurrying  ship  in  the 
shortrlived  gales  of  the  Equator,  and  who  have 
for  long  years  shared  alike  in  common  hardships, 
joys  and  sorrows. 

The  little  fairy  shoots  ahead,  and,  flying  up  into 
the  wind,  is  soon  on  our  weather  beam,  homeward 
bound.  Three  rousing  cheers  from  her  deck,  and 
three  from  the  outward  bound,  and  we  are  alone 
on  the  sea,  with  nothing  binding  us  to  the  shore 
but  memories  of  the  past  and  hopes  for  the  future ! 

And  now,  indeed,  though  with  everything  yet 
to  learn,  I  was  fairly  made  a  sailor  of.  There 
was  no  possible  back-wending,  however  I  might 
thereafterward  mope  and  whimper.  Accordingly 
I  turned  my  heart  manfully  toward  my  strange, 
new  life  and  faced  it  with  earnest  cheer. 

The  first  day  out,  the  ship's  crew  is  divided  into 
two  watches,  larboard  and  starboard,  the  former 
always  headed  by  the  first  officer  and  the  latter  by 
the  second.  The  men  are  mustered  aft  and  the 


36 


THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN. 


rules  of  the  ship  laid  down  to  them.  At  seven 
that  evening,  the  watch  is  set,  the  second  officer 
always  taking  the  first  night  watch  from  the  home 
port,  and  those  not  on  duty  go  below  and  sleep  — 
if  they  can.  Next  morning  all  hands  are  called 
aft  again,  this  time  for  choosing  boat's  crews. 
The  first  officer  takes  precedence  by  selecting 
one  man,  followed  in  turn  by  the  second,  third, 
and  fourth  mates,  each  choosing  one,  until  every 
boat  has  a  crew  standing  by  her  side.  Then 
follows,  usually,  the  emphatic  caution,  "Now 
remember  to  which  you  belong,  and  bear  a  hand 
when  she's  called  away !  " 

And  what  of  the  voyage  ?  Southward  ?  Yes, 
in  the  main  ;  crossing  the  Gulf  Stream ;  battling, 
stripped  for  the  fight,  with  many  a  heavy  gale ; 
passing,  with  men  all  the  while  at  our  mastheads, 
through  the  "  horse  latitudes  ; "  lowering  our 
boats,  now  and  then,  to  give  our  whalemen 
practice  in  rowing ;  and  taking  advantage,  now, 
of  every  slant  of  wind  to  press  on  our  way  toward 
the  stormy  Horn. 

Days  and  long  weeks  go  by,  nor  are  we  alone 
in  the  tedious  struggle.  Several  sails  are  in  sight, 
all  striving  to  get  south. 

And  so,  with  bracing  round,  or  squaring  the 
yards,  making  and  shortening  sail,  and  backing 


THAT   GREAT   LEVIATHAN.  37 

and  filling  generally,  we  get  a  sharp  squall,  with 
rain,  from  the  eastward,  and  then  the  old  salts 
cast  at  each  other  significant  glances,  which,  if 
rightly  interpreted,  would  say,  "I  believe  we've 
got  the  Trades  at  last !  "  After  a  few  hours,  the 
wind  moderates  and  hauls  to  the  northward.  All 
sail  is  set  again,  with  the  breeze  fresh  and  free, 
and  we  go  bowling  along  to  the  southward  at  the 
rate  of  ten  knots  an  hour. 

Oh,  the  beautiful  world  of  waters !  Almost 
every  day  we  pass  ships  showing  the  flags  of 
different  nations,  some  near  and  others  in  the  far 
distance,  all  under  a  press  of  canvas,  and  all  seem 
ing  to  revel  in  the  bright  sunshine  and  the  breeze. 
The  water,  too  —  so  warm  and  so  transparent  — 
is  full  of  life.  Porpoises,  dolphins,  albicore,  and 
barricota  are  gambolling  and  sporting  in  the  sum 
mer  sea.  Thousands  of  birds  are  on  the  wing  or 
resting  on  the  waves,  while  not  infrequently  a 
huge  fin-back,  or  sulphur  whale  rolls  lazily  along, 
now  throwing  clouds  of  misty  spray  into  the  air, 
and  again  lashing  the  water  into  foam  with  its 
broad  flukes,  doubtless  to  rid  himself  of  the 
numerous  parasites  which  persistently  strive  to 
fasten  themselves  upon  these  worthless  vagabonds. 
Vitality  and  loveliness  are  above,  beneath  and 
around  us,  and  we  seem  verily  to  be  sailing  on  a 


38  THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN. 

sea  of  enchantment.  The  stars  seem  nearer,  and 
shine  and  twinkle  with  that  wonderful  bright 
ness  seen  only  in  that  southern  hemisphere.  The 
North  star  has  dipped  into  the  ocean,  not  to  rise 
again  until  we  cross  the  Equator  on  the  Pacific 
ocean.  Instead  we  gaze  in  novel  delight  upon 
the  Southern  Cross,  and  we  are  constantly  looking 
for  that  mysterious  and  ghostlike  thing  known  to 
seamen  as  the  Magellan  cloud,  and  said  to  mark 
the  entrance  to  the  famous  straits  of  that  name. 
It  is  enough  to  make  a  man  quote  the  spirited 
lines  of  Kipling  : 

"  O,  the  blazing  tropic  night  when  the  wake's  a  welt  of  light 

That  holds  the  hot  sky  tame, 

And  the  steady  forefoot  snores  through  the  planet-powdered  floors, 
Where  the  scared  whale  flukes  in  flame! " 

Round  the  horn  we  fly,  wrestling  with  giant 
seas,  and  then,  while  penguins  and  fur-seals  go 
sporting  and  harking  around  the  Swift,  we  pass 
the  rugged,  half-glaciered  island  of  Terra  del 
Fuego.  Warmer,  day  by  day,  grows  the  air  and 
softer.  At  last,  though  never  a  spouter  have  we 
yet  raised  out  of  the  ocean,  our  hog-yoke  tells  us 
we  are  upon  the  rich  off-shore  whaling  grounds. 

After  we  had  been  out  from  home  eight  long 
months  we  chanced  to  speak  the  full-rig  ship 


THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN.  39 

William  Rotch,  and  I  then  beheld  a  sight  that 
stirred  my  soul  from  truck  to  keelson  and  knocked 
my  youthful  emotions  galley-end  wise.  For  the 
Rotch  had  a  monstrous  whale,  just  taken,  tethered 
alongside. 

There  he  lay,  a  bit  ingloriously,  to  be  sure,  for 
he  was  riding  belly  uppermost  and  tail  foremost ; 
but  I  felt  like  a  Titan  when  I  looked  at  him. 
That  was  the  prey  I  had  gone  a-seeking.  I  was  a 
fighter  of  dragons  and  worse.  Oh,  what  more 
heroic  opportunity  is  offered  to  man  or  boy  than 
to  join  battle  with  such  a  monster  as  that?  So 
thought  I  (turning  sea-green  the  while  with  envy 
of  yonder  lucky  crew)  and  longed,  with  inexpres 
sible  heart-hunger,  for  our  own  first  whale-fight. 
Moreover,  I  wished  myself  at  that  moment  a 
blood-thirsty  pirate ;  for,  ethical  considerations 
aside,  it  would  have  been  a  gratifying  relief  to 
my  feelings  had  we  boarded  that  ship,  like 
"  gentlemen  of  fortune,"  bowie-knifed  her  gallant 
crew,  and  stolen  that  whale  away. 

We  kept  company  with  the  Rotch  all  night,  and 
we  "gammed" — that  is  to  say,  we  exchanged 
visits  back  and  forth,  and  enjoyed  a  general 
fo'c'sle  pow-wow  for'ard  while  the  officers  made 
merry  in  the  cabins  ;  and  particularly  merry  they 
were  that  evening,  too,  for  the  old  man's  brother 


40 


THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN. 


was  mate  of  the  William  Rotch,  and  the  two  had 
not  come  face  to  face  for  many  an  eventful  year. 

But  who  knoweth  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  ? 

The  sun  came  red  and  fierce  and  savage  out  of 
the  water.  The  morning  mist  lifted  lazily  off  the 
ocean.  The  long-expected  happened. 

Try  how  I  will,  I  cannot  recall  in  any  former  or 
any  subsequent  experience,  whether  upon  land  or 
sea,  such  a  panic  and  stampede  of  emotions  as  in 
stantly  followed  a  ringing  cry  from  the  mast-head. 

"  There  she  blows  !  "    I  heard  a  man  shout. 

A  haze  seemed  to  rush  over  my  soul.  All  that 
happened  in  the  next  five  minutes  is  an  utter  con 
fusion  of  tumultuous  and  ungovernable  impres 
sions.  "  All  hands  "  must  have  been  called,  but 
I  could  not  hear  the  words.  Every  man  sprang 
toward  his  boat  —  in  fact,  the  movements  of  the 
crew  were  automatic  and  inerrant  —  yet  I  made 
nothing  coherent  of  their  desperate  hurry.  Almost 
in  an  instant  the  boats  were  lowered  swift  away ; 
but  not  until  three  long  whale-boats  were  dashing 
out  after  the  great  leviathan  and  bent  now  upon 
actual  chase,  did  I  come  to  myself  far  enough  to 
take  good  account  of  how  this  vast  concern  was 
being  brought  to  pass. 

I  have  heard  of  buck  fever.  But,  lands  and 
seas,  it  is  nothing  to  whale  fever  ! 


THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN".  41 

Nevertheless,  in  the  midst  of  so  crazed  a  mood, 
I  did,  without  so  much  as  considering  it,  my 
appointed  duty  which,  for  all  that,  was  not  diffi 
cult  ;  being,  as  long  beforehand  I  had  been  in 
structed,  to  remain  on  board  and  do  nothing. 
That  was  a  simple  task,  but  by  no  means  agree 
able. 

It  was  certainly  a  vivid  contradiction,  as  I  have 
often  since  reflected,  that  while  I,  who  was  least  in 
the  struggle,  went  clean  daft  for  the  moment,  the 
whale,  who  was  of  all  concerned  most  gravely 
implicated,  lay  spouting  contentedly  only  a  small 
way  from  the  Swift,  and  as  wholly  free  from  worry 
or  care  as  a  comfortable  cow  nibbling  pink  and 
white  clover-tops. 

"  Boy,"  said  the  cooper,  for  he  stood  next  to  me 
and  together  we  watched  the  chase,  "  I'll  bet  my 
go-ashore  shirt  and  pantaloons  they'll  set  you 
a- turning  that  'ar  grin-stun  !  " 

This  sage  observation  was  the  expression  of  a 
splendid  optimism,  for  when  a  whale  is  being  cut 
in,  the  cabin-boy  turns  the  grindstone  while  the 
cooper  sharpens  the  cutting-spades. 

"  Oh,  by  Reuben  Ranzo  !  "  yelled  the  cooper, 
grabbing  me  by  the  collar,  "  They'll  galley  him  !  " 

Then,  tightening  his  grip  on  my  neck  till  I 
thought  he  would  strangle  me,  he  emphasized  his 


42  THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN. 

sudden  plunge  into  pessimism  with  a  blast  of 
emphatic  and  unmistakable  English. 

Luckily  for  my  continued  existence,  the  fortunes 
of  the  whale-chase  suddenly  grew  brighter.  The 
cooper  loosed  his  unconscious  grip  on  my  throat 
and  leaned  out  over  the  rail,  his  eyes  bulging  with 
intense  interest. 

The  chief  mate's  boat  approached  the  column  of 
steam  that  rose  from  the  whale's  spout-hole. 

The  harpooner  hurled  his  merciless  iron. 

The  iron  took  hold  in  the  quivering  flesh  of  the 
whale,  and  instantly  the  captain's  boat  dashed  up 
and  a  second  harpoon  went  hurtling  through  the 
air  to  plant  itself  close  to  the  first.  The  whale 
writhed  with  sudden  pain  and  fright,  but  did  not 
go  down.  He  preferred  to  fight. 

The  old  man,  however,  had  plans  of  his  own ; 
he  would  kill  the  whale,  and  that  immediately. 

He  bellowed  a  hasty  order  to  the  mate,  thinking 
to  drive  the  mate's  boat  out  of  his  way,  but  he  had 
not  calculated  upon  the  stubborn  ambition  of  that 
hot-headed  officer.  The  mate  never  budged. 

Enraged  at  his  opposition,  the  captain  crowded 
in  between  the  mate  and  the  monster,  and  ran  his 
lance  into  the  whale's  vitals.  Then  there  was 
such  a  commotion  as  I  had  never  before  witnessed. 
The  whale  went  into  a  frantic  flurry,  barrels-full  of 


THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN.  43 

rich,  dark  blood  were  hurled  into  the  air  from  his 
spout-hole,  the  boats  dashed  away  from  him  as 
they  would  from  an  enraged  sea-serpent,  and 
behold  —  a  half-dozen  men  floundering  about  in 
the  water ! 

"  Stoven ! "  yelled  the  cooper,  renewing  his 
unconscious  assaults  upon  my  collar.  "  Served 
him  dead  right,  I  swear  !  An'  bless  ye,  boy,  the 
old  lobster-back  can't  swim  a  stroke  !  " 

Indeed  he  could  not.  There  was  the  captain  in 
the  water,  as  helpless  as  a  lady,  and  two  of  his 
men  were  trying  their  best  .to  keep  him  from 
sinking,  while  one  of  the  two  uninjured  boats  was 
coming  up  to  take  him  aboard. 

"  Same  old  yarn,"  said  the  cooper.  "  I've  sailed 
with  the  old  man  five  year  if  I've  sailed  a  day,  an' 
I  tell  ye,  boy,  he's  done  this  lubberly  trick  forty 
times  over.  Gits  wearisome,  now  an'  then,  dead 
wearisome  for  them  Jacks  to  float  a  poor  lubber 
that  won't  learn  swimmin',  and  dead  wearisome 
for  poor  old  Chips  to  have  to  mend  the  old  man's 
boat  after  every  blessed  chase." 

"  Then  why  doesn't  the  captain  learn  to  swim?" 

The  cooper  ventured  no  answer.  He  was 
watching  the  mate  getting  a  line  fast  to  Old 
Blubber.  Suddenly  he  bethought  himself  of 
grindstone  and  spades,  and  as  quickly  was  off  to 


44  THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN. 

make  ready  for  the  work  that  would  turn  me  into 
a  slavish  minion. 

Even  before  the  boats  had  come  in  and  had  got 
the  whale  alongside  and  well  into  the  fluke-chains, 
the  grinding  of  spades  began. 

Often  and  often  I  had  heard  men  of  the  sea  tell 
how  a  whale  was  cut  in  and  tried  out,  but  now, 
with  my  own  lucky  eyes,  I  was  to  see  the  thing 
done. 

But  before  I  describe  how  the  whale  was  cut  in, 
I  must  say  something  about  whales  in  general. 

There  are  many  kinds,  but  only  two  are  of 
importance  to  whalemen.  The  right  whale  is 
sought  for  his  bone.  The  sperm  whale  is  sought 
for  his  blubber.  We  of  the  Swift  were  sperm 
whaling. 

Pictures  of  whales  are  uniformly  deceptive. 
They  give  the  impression  that  a  good  part  of  the 
animal  (not  fish,  —  a  whale  is  a  hot-blooded  mam 
mal)  can  be  seen  above  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
They  also  indicate  that  a  whale's  spout  is  made 
of  water.  It  is  no  such  thing.  All  you  can 
commonly  see  of  a  whale  from  the  ship's  deck  is 
his  spout  and  that  is  a  mere  column  of  vapor. 
It's  his  breath.  Get  that  once  in  mind  and  you'll 
never  call  a  whale  a  fish.  You  never  saw  a  fish 
breathe  air.  You  never  found  a  fish  warm  enough 


THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN.  45 

to  belch  out  white  vapor  on  a  summer's  day  like  a 
steamboat. 

Such,  then,  is  the  whale's  spout.  And  by  the 
spout  the  two  kinds  of  whales,  sperm  and  right, 
can  be  distinguished.  A  sperm  whale  has  but  one 
spout-hole,  and  throws  the  spout  forward  at  an 
angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees  —  a  thick  spout 
and  not  very  high,  rising  from  a  point  near  the 
whale's  "  nose."  A  right  whale  has  two  spout- 
holes,  very  close  together.  They  are  about 
eighteen  feet  from  the  end  of  his  head  and,  of 
course,  much  nearer  his  lungs  than  is  the  case 
with  the  sperm  whale.  Consequently  the  vapor 
shoots  up  higher  and  as  straight  as  a  mast.  It 
spreads  as  it  rises.  I  suppose,  too,  that  the  big 
ness  of  a  whale  is  something  few  landsmen  could 
well  give  account  of.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  sixty- 
foot  whale  is  about  as  big  as  you  will  ever  see. 
Big  enough,  says  any  whaleman  —  big  enough  to 
serve  as  a  very  worthy  adversary  to  pigmy  man 
who  goes  to  slay  him  ! 

Very  naturally  you  ask,  as  Brutus  did  (or  was 
it  Cassius  ? )  :  "  What  meat  has  this,  our  Caesar 
fed  on,  that  he  is  grown  so  great  ? " 

That  depends  on  your  whale.  The  sperm 
whale,  having  teeth,  lives  on  deep-sea  jelly-fish. 
The  right  whale,  which  is  as  toothless  as  any 


46  THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN. 

dotard,  lives  on  a  tiny  red  creature  called  brit,  no 
larger  than  a  spider,  but  so  numerous  as  to  color 
the  water  a  yellowish  red  over  whole  acres. 

It  is  because  of  his  choice  of  diet  that  the  right 
whale  has  his  mouth  filled  with  a  huge  sieve  of 
whalebone.  That  sieve  is  to  let  the  brit  through 
and  to  shut  bigger  sea-things  out. 

The  arrangement  is  a  decided  success.  I  have 
seen  a  right  whale  make  a  scoop  of  his  broad  lips 
and  rush  through  a  field  of  brit  (like  a  snow- 
plow  through  a  drift)  and  leave  a  trail  of  blue 
water  behind  him.  That  is  a  sight  to  remember 
and  also  a  sound  to  remember,  for  when  a  right 
whale  is  feeding  he  spouts  with  tremendous  force. 
At  such  a  time  you  will  have  no  hope  of  striking 
him. 

But  right  whales  don't  concern  me  nor  do  I 
concern  right  whales.  We  were  after  oil  and  we 
wanted  sperm  whales  or  none. 

The  oil  is  made  from  the  blubber,  mainly,  and 
the  blubber  covers  the  whale  like  a  thick  coating 
of  fat  pork.  In  one  sense  it  is  a  blanket;  it 
keeps  the  whale  warm  in  the  coldest  sea-water. 
In  another  sense  it  is  a  shell  —  or  even  a  padded 
coat ;  it  relieves  the  tremendous  pressure  of  the 
water  upon  the  whale's  body  when  he  sounds  to 
the  depths  of  the  sea. 


THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN.  47 

Sperm  whales  have,  as  already  intimated,  their 
ups  and  downs.  A  large  sperm  whale  remains 
under  water  from  forty-five  minutes  to  an  hour 
and  a  quarter.  That  is  a  fact  to  go  by.  When  a 
whale  has  sounded  and  you  are  waiting  for  him  to 
come  up,  it  is  a  relief  to  know  that  some  sort  of 
limit  is  set  upon  his  delay.  But  that  is  not  all. 
You  can  judge  where  he  will  come  up.  For  a 
whale  travels,  unless  vigorously  disturbed,  about 
two  miles  an  hour.  So  you  note  which  way  he 
headed  when  he  sounded,  and  you  measure  off  two 
miles  in  that  direction,  and  you  know  where  to 
meet  your  friend  again.  This  is  an  infallible  rule 
whenever  it  works. 

But  a  whale  has  something  beside  ups  and 
downs  and  blubber.  He  has  a  marvellous 
sagacity.  By  some  mysterious  process,  which 
I  suppose  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research 
would  call  "thought  transference/'  whales  pass 
the  news  of  disaster  from  one  end  of  a  school 
to  another.  When  one  of  the  company  is 
wounded,  every  whale  within  a  radius  of  four 
miles  is  advised  of  the  fact.  Sometimes  the 
alarm  will  bring  speedy  assistance.  That  gives 
the  whaleman  only  a  better  chance  to  ply  his 
gainful  trade.  Sometimes  a  retreat  is  ordered. 
The  whole  squadron  will  dash  away  as  by  some 


48  THAT    GREAT   LEVIATHAN. 

instantaneous  common  impulse,  evidently  terror- 
struck. 

Can  a  sperm  whale  be  called  a  globe-trotter  ? 
Be  that  as  it  may,  the  sperm  whale  migrates  far 
and  wide.  Ships  cruise  on  the  shores  of  Chili  and 
Peru  at  a  distance  of  from  two  to  one  hundred 
leagues  from  the  shore,  and  you  will  often  see 
both  in-  and  off-shore  vessels  doing  nothing.  At 
other  times  all  will  be  engaged.  "Where  were  the 
whales  while  the  ships  lay  idle  ?  Roving  over  the 
broad  seas,  no  doubt,  and  many  a  mile  away, 
a- taking  of  their  ease. 

It  is  known  to  a  solid  certainty  that  whales 
have  been  harpooned  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and 
have  been  afterward  taken  in  the  Pacific.  The 
marks  on  the  irons  proved  the  identity  of  the 
whale  every  time.  Old  Blubber  seems  to  travel 
for  change  of  scene.  It  is  clear  that  he  is  not  led 
to  migrate  by  any  fear  of  the  whalemen.  Indeed, 
whales  are  not  easily  driven  away  from  their 
feeding-ground  by  ships. 

But  whatever  the  ups  and  downs  of  that  whale 
alongside  the  Swift,  and  whatever  the  vicissitudes 
of  his  travelling  days,  one  thing  was  clear.  That 
whale  was  dead.  Like  Marley  of  blessed  memory, 
he  was  dead  as  a  door-nail.  Unlike  Marley,  how 
ever,  he  could  never  come  to  life  again.  They 
were  cutting  him  in.  I  saw  it  done. 


THAT   GREAT   LEVIATHAN.  49 

I  beheld  two  stages  slung  over  the  side  of  the 
ship,  each  stage  six  feet  long  and  a  foot  wide. 
Men  stood  upon  the  stages  with  sharp  spades  — 
one  to  cut  the  blubber,  the  other  to  kill  the  sharks 
that  would  have  devoured  our  prize. 

I  saw  an  aperture  made  near  the  whale's  fin.  I 
saw  the  great  hook  inserted.  I  saw  a  semi-circle 
cut  around  the  hook. 

Then  they  took  the  falls  to  the  windlass.  The 
windlass  wound  in  the  falls.  The  falls  passed 
through  a  block  at  the  main-mast  head.  The  falls 
then  became  the  tackle,  heaved  hard  at  the  iron 
hook,  and  stripped  the  blubber  from  the  whale. 

The  blubber  came  off  in  a  continuous  spiral 
strip.  The  whale  meanwhile  kept  turning  over 
and  over  in  the  water.  The  ripping  of  the  blubber 
from  the  carcass  was  guided  by  the  sharp  spade  of 
the  officer  on  the  stage. 

I  saw  a  strip  of  white,  pork-like  blubber, 
twenty-five  feet  long  and  five  feet  wide,  hoisted 
into  a  perpendicular  position  and  its  top  touch 
ing  the  mast-head.  Then  they  cut  the  piece 
(  "blanket-piece,"  they  said)  loose  from  the  whale 
and  lowered  the  blubber  into  the  ship's  hold 
between  decks,  at  the  same  time  attaching  the 
other  tackle  to  a  fresh  cut  in  the  whale's  flesh  and 
preparing  to  raise  another  blankei>-piece. 


50  THAT    GREAT    LEVIATHAN. 

I  saw  this  process  repeated  until  the  blubber 
was  stripped  from  the  whale. 

I  saw  the  head  cut  off  from  the  huge  beast 
and  hoisted  on  deck.  I  felt  the  great  ship 
strain.  The  standing-rigging  on  the  starboard 
side  slackened.  The  mast  bent  over  like  a  whip- 
stock.  I  saw  the  Swift  listed  till  her  plank-shear 
was  nearly  level  with  the  water. 

A  filthy  column  of  black  smoke  rose  out  of  the 
try-works.  They  were  cutting  the  blubber  into 
horse-pieces,  mincing  these  pieces,  and  putting  the 
hashed  blubber  into  huge  pots  with  brick  flooring 
under  them  and  a  blazing  fire  of  blubber  scraps 
blazing  around  them.  Thence  the  oil  passed  into 
a  huge  copper  cooler  and  thence  in  turn  into  casks. 

They  made  merry  over  the  boiling.  They 
nibbled  bits  of  fried  blubber,  and  they  fried 
doughnuts  in  the  grease. 

The  whole  ship  was  befouled,  but  we  soon  had 
her  cleaned  up  again,  man-o'-war  fashion ;  and 
what  was  better  yet,  we  coopered  a  hundred 
barrels  of  oil. 

"  Lands  and  seas,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  this  is  the 
biggest  business  afloat  or  ashore." 

But  as  yet  I  had  not  chased  a  whale. 


MARQUESAS  ISLANDS. 

WE  whaled  on  the  equator,  crossing  it  almost 
daily,  until  we  arrived  in  the  longitude  of  the 
Marquesas,  or  Washington  Islands,  when  we 
hauled  south,  and  made  the  fine  harbor  in 
Nukahiva,  for  a  stay  of  two  weeks  to  procure 
wood,  water,  potatoes,  bananas,  etc.  The  natives 
of  these  islands  at  this  time,  1837,  were  con 
sidered  the  handsomest  race  of  all  the  islands  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean,  —  the  men  of  fine  stature,  the 
women  of  delicate  features  and  of  quite  light 
complexion.  The  inhabitants  of  the  port  were 
friendly,  but  needed  close  watching,  as  their 
thieving  propensities  were  very  strong.  On  all 
other  parts  of  the  island  they  were  very  savage 
and  cannibals.  When  leaving  this  island,  we 
took  with  us  an  Englishman  and  a  Sandwich 
Islander  as  interpreters,  and  ran  over  to  the 
island  of  Roa  Poua, —  about  thirty  miles  distant 
and  one  of  the  same  group, — for  further  recruits 
and  pigs.  Arriving  after  a  few  hours'  sail,  the 
captain,  with  two  boats'  crews  and  interpreters, 
pulled  in  to  the  principal  bay;  and,  after  telling 
the  chief  what  was  wanted,  left  the  Sandwich 
Islander  (who  was  of  large  stature,  fat  and  sleek) 


52  MARQUESAS    ISLANDS. 

to  have  the  recruits,  pigs,  etc.,  at  the  landing 
ready  for  him  to  take  off  in  the  morning.  On 
returning,  the  chief  mate,  with  two  boats'  crews 
and  the  English  interpreter,  pulled  in  to  another 
bay,  and  landed  himself  and  interpreter,  with 
boats  afloat  and  oars  ready  for  a  spring  in  case 
of  a  surprise.  Our  rule  in  those  days  was,  that 
if  the  women  and  girls  were  at  the  shore,  we 
were  comparatively  safe  from  attack  by  the 
natives.  At  this  landing  neither  men  nor  women 
were  to  be  seen,  and,  fearing  ambush,  we  left 
for  the  ship.  When  the  captain  left  the 
Sandwich  Islander  on  the  shore  for  the  night, 
he  took  the  chief's  son  as  hostage  for  the  safety 
of  our  interpreter. 

With  the  ship  off  and  on  through  the  night, 
in  the  morning  we  stood  in  toward  the  upper 
bay.  When  a  canoe  came  off,  with  a  New 
Zealand  native,  who  came  on  board  and  gave 
us  a  full  account  of  how  they  had  killed  the 
Sandwich  Islander  and  eaten  him,  with  a  descrip 
tion  of  the  festivities  or  revels  during  the  night, 
the  captain  ordered  the  ship  put  away  for 
Nukahiva.  When  on  her  course,  with  yards 
trimmed,  tacks  down,  and  sheets  aft,  with  a 
spanking  trade  wind  breeze  on  the  quarter,  there 
comes  a  scene  which  would  require  an  artist  to 


MARQUESAS    ISLANDS.  53 

describe.  The  first  officer  goes  to  his  stateroom 
for  the  knives  for  the  purpose  of  having  the 
top  and  top  gallant  masts  scraped.  He,  without 
giving  any  thought  to  our  hostage,  comes  up 
the  gangway  with  the  glittering  knives,  six  of 
them,  in  his  hand,  when,  with  a  scream,  our 
hostage,  the  handsome  boy,  nude  with  the  excep 
tion  of  tapa  about  his  loins,  springs  into  the 
bow  boat,  and,  with  the  agility  of  a  cat,  runs 
on  the  outer  gunwale  into  the  waist  boat,  reaches 
in  and  catches  the  end  of  the  main  clew  garnet, 
and  putting  a  noose  around  his  neck  and  on  to 
the  outer  gunwale  of  the  waist  boat,  is  ready  for 
a  spring. 

Catching  on  to  the  situation  in  a  flash,  the 
mate  dropped  the  knives  and  held  up  both  hands, 
while  our  interpreter  explained  and  persuaded 
the  hostage  to  unloosen  the  rope  from  about 
his  neck  and  come  on  deck.  Then  he  told  us 
that  as  they  had  killed  and  eaten  our  man,  he 
supposed  the  knives  were  to  be  used  to  kill  him, 
and  to  be  used  in  eating  him.  This  boy 
remained  on  the  ship  for  a  year  or  more,  and 
rowed  the  tub  oar  in  the  mate's  boat. 

Reaching  Nukahiva,  the  mate  was  ordered  by 
the  captain  to  take  two  boats,  provided  with 
trade,  well-armed,  and  with  the  English  inter- 


54  MARQUESAS   ISLANDS. 

preter,  and  go  into  Typee  Bay,  in  further 
pursuit  of  fresh  pork,  fruit,  etc.  Sailing  up  the 
large,  open  bay,  we  found  three  smaller  bays 
or  inlets,  with  grand  and  beautiful  scenery 
Entering  one  of  these,  we  arrived  at  the  point 
where  we  met  the  friendly  tribe  with  their  chief 
with  his  splendid  physique  and  the  best  assurance 
of  safety.  The  boats  were  at  once  surrounded 
with  women,  girls  and  children,  in  number  one 
hundred  or  more,  swimming  and  floating  about 
us,  until  our  boats  were  loaded  with  fat  porkers, 
etc.  After  making  presents  to  the  chief,  we  up 
anchor  and  left,  having  made  a  successful  trading 
trip.  Arriving  on  board,  the  ship  was  put  away 
for  the  cruising  grounds, — about  the  north  end 
of  New  Zealand,  the  Vasques  ground,  and  off 
the  island  of  Eoa,  one  of  the  Tonga  or  Friendly 
Islands,  also  taking  one  season  on  the  south  side 
of  Upolu,  one  of  the  Samoan  group. 


BEACH  COMBERS. 

DURING  our  cruise  around  the  Navigator 
Islands,  and  while  we  were  sailing  along  the  coast 
of  Upolu,  hugging  the  shore  —  country-whaling, 
as  they  say  —  a  canoe  came  off  with  several 
natives  and  a  white  man  as  interpreter.  They 
were  anxious  to  trade,  offering  fowl  and  fruit  in 
exchange  for  cotton  cloth. 

While  the  traders  were  on  board,  the  man  at 
the  masthead  sang  out,  "There  she  blows!"  and 
sure  enough  there  was  a  school  of  sperm  whales, 
cows  and  calves,  going  to  the  leeward.  We  kept 
off  for  them,  and,  in  doing  so,  passed  another 
canoe,  steered  by  a  white  man,  who  had  put  off 
from  another  village  to  trade.  Under  the 
circumstances,  the  old  man  thought  best  not  to 
heave  to  for  them — whales  won't  wait,  and 
traders  will  —  so  they  went  away  for  the  land, 
the  white  man  cursing  and  swearing  and 
threatening  to  seize  and  hold  our  boats  if  we 
attempted  to  land  at  their  village. 

We  came  up  with  the  whales,  lowered  our 
boats,  and  were  soon  fastened  to  three.  In  a  short 
time  we  had  them  turned  up  and  dead.  We  left 
them  with  a  "waif"  —  that  is,  a  small  flag  — 


56  BEACH    COMBERS. 

stuck  in  each,  and  it  then  became  the  duty  of  the 
officer  on  board  to  take  the  whales  alongside, 
while  we  went  in  pursuit  of  others.  It  was  not 
long  before  two  boats,  the  captain's  and  the 
mate's,  struck  again,  and  soon  had  the  old  flukers 
spouting  blood.  The  first  and  second  mates  were 
left  with  these  two,  while  the  captain  went  on 
board  ship.  There  he  asked  the  third  mate,  who 
was  on  board  as  ship-keeper,  in  what  direction 
the  three  whales  were  which  we  had  waifed. 
The  poor  fool  could  not  tell.  All  he  could  say 
was  they  were  to  windward,  and  he  had  passed 
them.  The  old  man  was  enraged  at  this  reply, 
for  there  were  three  fine  whales,  which,  if  the 
third  mate  had  done  his  duty,  ought  to  have  been 
taken  alongside  and  made  fast  with  fluke-chains 
and  towed  after  the  boats  in  chase.  As  it  was, 
we  found  only  one  of  the  waifed  whales,  for  it 
was  near  dark  when  we  began  to  search  for  them. 
Three  whales,  however,  were  already  ours,  and 
together  they  made  seventy-five  barrels  of  oil. 

After  stowing  down  the  oil  in  the  hold,  we 
stood  in  for  the  island  and  went  on  shore  to 
trade.  And  now  we  feared  the  consequence  of 
passing  that  canoe  without  allowing  her  to  come 
alongside,  for  we  had  none  of  us  forgotten  the 
threats  and  curses  that  promised  us  trouble  if  we 


BEACH    COMBERS.  57 

landed  at  their  village.  The  beach-comber  tried 
to  have  the  islanders  seize  and  detain  our  boats 
for  not  having  allowed  them  to  come  aboard. 
Nevertheless,  we  made  bold  to  go  ashore,  and  it 
was  only  by  sheer  luck  that  we  ever  got  off 
alive ;  for  we  happened  to  have  among  us  a 
fellow  who  understood  the  native  language,  and 
who  overheard  the  islanders  hatching  up  a 
murderous  scheme  to  "  do  for"  the  whole  lot  of 
us.  This  chance  interpreter  ran  and  told  the  old 
man,  who  ordered  the  boats  to  put  off  to  the  ship. 
Every  Jack  tar  of  us  knew  that  that  meant 
stepping  lively,  and  we  wasted  no  time.  We 
launched  those  boats  as  quick  as  coast-guards,  but 
we  were  not  a  moment  too  soon.  For  no  sooner 
had  we  bent  to  our  oars  than  the  whole  mob 
of  savages  made  a  rush  for  us,  yelling  like  a 
pack  of  lunatics,  and  running  into  the  water 
after  our  boats,  but  not  succeeding  in  their 
attempts  to  get  hold  of  them.  The  whole  brutal 
job  was  the  work  of  that  villainous  beach-comber, 
and  shows  how  low  a  white  man  will  get  when  he 
sells  his  birthright  and  goes  to  live  with  savages. 
The  worst  insult  you  can  offer  an  able  seaman 
is  to  call  him  a  beach-comber. 

When  we    came    home    after   that   long,   long 
voyage,  we  had  with  us  a  boat-steerer  from  this 


58  BEACH    COMBERS. 

very  island,  —  no  beach-comber  either,  —  and 
thereby  hangs  a  tale.  He  was  the  only  survivor 
of  two  boats'  crews  of  twelve  men  from  the 
full-rigged  ship  William  Penn,  of  Falmouth. 
The  Penns  boats  were  captured  and  their  crews 
murdered,  all  but  this  one  man.  He  was  on 
the  island  several  months  eking  out  a  horrible 
existence,  and  expecting  his  life  might  be  taken 
at  any  time.  It  was  on  a  previous  voyage  in 
these  waters  that  our  captain  found  the  fellow 
on  the  island,  and  helped  him  to  make  his  escape. 
He  had  shipped  again  with  the  old  man  after 
that  voyage  was  ended,  and  was  still  with  us. 

This  is  how  the  captain  took  him  off.  The 
ship  was  cruising  near  Upolu,  and  the  old  man 
sent  in  boats  to  trade,  going  ashore  in  one  of 
them  himself.  On  the  beach  he  met  this  sailor, 
who  told  his  story  and  begged  the  old  man  to 
help  him  get  away.  The  thing  had  to  be 
accomplished  by  stealth,  for  the  islanders  would 
have  butchered  the  whole  crew  if  they  had  got 
wind  of  the  plan.  There  was  a  point  about  a 
mile  from  the  village  which  made  out  some 
distance  into  the  sea.  This  man  was  to  go 
there  in  the  night,  and  a  boat  was  to  be  sent 
from  the  ship  to  take  him  off.  It  was  a  life 
and  death  venture,  for  the  reef  stretched  away 


BEACH    COMBERS.  59 

out  into  the  sea,  and  the  surf  came  pounding 
down  on  those  rocks  with  a  roar  like  thunder. 
No  boat  could  ever  live  in  such  a  sea,  and  there 
was  no  hope  of  landing  without  smashing  your 
boat  to  match-wood.  There  was  just  one  thing 
to  be  done.  The  ship's  boat  must  lie  well  off 
the  reef,  and  the  man  must  plunge  into  those 
bellowing  breakers  and  swim  for  his  life.  If 
he  made  it,  well  and  good.  If  he  didn't  make 
it,  why  death  on  the  reef  would  be  luxury 
compared  with  death  at  the  hands  of  those  blood 
thirsty  wild  men.  So  the  terrible  risk  was 
taken.  The  daring  rush  into  the  foam,  the 
desperate  fight  with  the  breakers,  the  long 
struggle  in  the  dark,  and,  at  last,  life  and 
liberty!  They  picked  him  up  and  took  him 
aboard  the  ship.  He  remained  on  her  and  came 
home  with  her ;  and  he  felt  so  grateful  to  his 
deliverer  that  he  shipped  with  him  for  another 
voyage,  which  was  his  last.  For  then  he  married 
a  Boston  lady  and  lived  in  that  city  until  he 
died,  not  long  since,  leaving  a  family  to  mourn 
his  loss.  He  was  an  esteemed  friend  of  mine, 
and  his  spirit  has  gone  out,  I  trust,  into  the 
Better  Land. 


BRINGING  MR.  TOWNSEND 
BACK  AGAIN. 


Escape  me  ? 
Never, 
Beloved! " 

—Browning. 


"  Tell  me,  messmate,  why  in  the  name  of  all 
that's  shipshape  did  you  ever  come  to  sea  ?  " 

"  Shiver  my  soul  if  I  can  tell !  " 

"  Til  tell  you,  boy,  Til  tell  you.  You  come  to 
sea  just  to  see  the  world.  Ain't  I  right,  Jack  ? 
All  you  come  for  was  just  to  see  the  world.  You 
wanted  to  clap  your  blinkin'  top-lights  on  Nuka- 
hiva,  an'  Upolo,  an'  Hivaoa,  an'  the  Cape,  an' 
Mahee,  an'  all  them  high-saoundin'  places  you 
hearn  tell  on  when  you  was  knee-high  to  a  marlin' 
spike." 

The  older  man  spoke  with  an  air  of  preternatu 
ral  knowingness.  He  leaned  forward  insinuatingly 
upon  the  stout  iron  hoop  that  ran  under  his  arms. 
The  youth,  as  he  listened  to  this  relentless  diag 
nosis  of  his  distemper,  lolled  back  upon  his  own 
iron  hoop  and  thrust  his  half-akimbo  elbows  out 
across  it.  The  two  whalemen  were  upon  lookout 
duty  at  the  mainmast  head  of  that  staunch  old 
hooker,  the  whaling  ship  Swift. 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK  AGAIN.         61 

"Taownsend,"  the  old  sea-dog  continued,  "I. 
don't  much  blame  you  for  coming,  but  by  the 
bloody  wars  you're  a  fool  if  you  desert.  We've 
had  blasted  poor  luck,  I  know,  blasted  poor.  And 
I  know,  too,  we've  all  got  to  lose  by  it,  every  Jack 
Tar  of  us,  all  the  way  from  the  old  man  on  the 
quarter-deck  down  to  Charlie  Robbins  in  the  cabin. 
Some  ways  I'd  rather  be  to  sea  in  a  merchantman 
and  git  reg'lar  wages  'stid  o'  goin'  by  lays.  But  I 
tell  you,  Taownsend,  you're  a  blarsted  ninny  if 
you  try  to  get  aout  o'  this  butter-box.  First 
place,  them  tattoo  natives' 11  make  dunder-funk 
o'  your  tender  timbers  'fore  you  been  ashore  half 
a  day.  Nex'  place,  you'll  never  git  a  lift  off  that 
there  island  if  you  once  git  on  it  —  you'll  just  be 
a  low-daown  beach  comber  all  the  rest  o'  your 
natchral  days.  Third  place,  the  old  man'll  git  the 
darbies  on  you  'n  less  'n  a  week  an*  then  you'll  be 
back  aboard  o'  here  an'  wishin'  you  was  plumb 
dead." 

A  very  determined  look  glaring  out  of  the 
old  blubber  hunter's  sharp  eyes  showed  that  he 
thought  his  logic  invincible. 

One  fact,  however,  he  had  wholly  overlooked. 
Townsend  was  in  debt  to  the  old  man.  He  had 
shipped  for  a  long  lay  and  had  a  thumping  big 
bill  for  outfitting  and  board  before  we  sailed  from 


62        BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN. 

old  New  Bedford.  So  if  he  remained  in  the  Swift 
throughout  the  voyage  he  would  have  little  or 
nothing  coming  to  him  at  its  conclusion.  There 
fore,  from  Townsend's  standpoint  it  was  worth 
while  to  take  big  risks  and  try  to  ship  again. 
The  venture  involved  no  loss  and  a  possible  gain. 

So,  despite  the  grave  counsel  from  the  ancient 
mariner,  this  daring  young  citizen  of  Rochester, 
N.  Y.,  gazed  wistfully  toward  the  splendid  wooded 
island  —  one  of  the  Navigator  group,  better  known 
under  the  name  of  Samoa  —  which  rose  majesti 
cally  out  of  the  ocean,  green,  luxuriant,  fascinating. 
It  was  scarce  two  miles  away. 

"  My  stars !  "  said  Townsend  to  himself,  "  my 
stars,  if  I  was  only  there !  " 

No  amount  of  good  advice  could  change  Town 
send's  determination  to  leave  the  ship.  Old 
Bowline  might  have  informed  the  officers  of  Town 
send's  plans,  but  he  thought  he  had  talked  the 
boy  out  of  his  folly.  So  the  project  developed 
quite  as  if  it  had  suffered  nothing  by  interference. 

"We  cruised  so  near  the  Samoa  Islands  that  not 
infrequently  the  natives  would  come  off  in  canoes, 
bringing  the  usual  commodities  —  fruit,  cocoanuts, 
fowl  and  pigs — to  trade  for  cotton  cloth,  gun 
powder,  iron  hoops,  and  the  trinkets  and  gimcracks 
they  always  find  so  desirable. 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN.         63 

It  often  happened  that  a  canoe  would  bring 
along  as  trader  and  interpreter  some  renegade 
whaleman  who  had  deserted  his  ship  and  turned 
"  beachcomber,"  living  among  the  natives,  and 
little  better  than  the  worst  of  them.  This  is  one 
of  the  strangest  things  about  sailoring.  A  sea 
man's  civilization  will  drop  off  like  the  cast  skin 
of  a  rattlesnake  when  he  goes  to  live  among 
savages. 

While  trading  was  going  on  —  and  it  would 
sometimes  last  two  days  at  a  stretch  —  the  old 
man  would  keep  one  of  the  brown-skinned,  yellow- 
haired,  frizzle-headed  tatooed  natives  on  board  as 
a  hostage.  The  old  man  had  learned  caution  by 
bitter  experience.  At  Hivaoa  we  had  found  it  by 
no  means  easy  to  keep  the  natives  from  kidnap 
ping  a  red-haired  sailor.  They  thought  his  scalp 
worth  more  than  his  life.  At  Auhuga  one  of  our 
men  was  actually  roasted  and  eaten. 

That  was  a  lesson  to  remember.  We  never 
took  chances  after  that.  But  with  a  native  host 
age  on  board  the  ship,  we  were  not  afraid  to  go  a 
long  way  in-shore  in  our  boats,  though  we  never 
quite  ventured  to  land.  When  the  trading  was 
done  and  we  were  about  to  leave,  we  would  send 
the  hostage  off  in  one  of  our  boats,  and  as  soon  as 
we  came  within  swimming  distance  of  the  shore 


64         BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND    BACK   AGAIN. 

we  would  pitch  him  overboard  and  make  him 
paddle  for  terra  fir  ma. 

Now  it  was  on  one  of  these  occasions,  when  a 
hostage  was  being  returned  to  the  bosom  of  his 
tribe,  that  the  Rochester  boy  found  an  opportun 
ity  to  desert.  He  was  in  the  boat  as  we  took  off 
the  native,  and  when  the  tatooed  man  was  about 
to  start  ashore,  Townsend  suddenly  jumped  over 
board  and  swam  for  the  land.  The  officer  in 
charge  ordered  him  to  return,  but  he  never  paid 
the  least  attention  —  just  tumbled  through  the 
surf,  scrambled  up  the  beach  and  made  away 
inland  as  fast  as  his  truant  heels  could  carry  him. 

"  Blast  my  luck,"  said  the  officer,  "  blast  my 
ugly  luck  !  Now  I'll  have  to  face  the  music  ! 
Noiu  the  old  man'11  make  me  waltz !  "  But  he 
checked  the  outpouring  of  his  chagrined  rage. 
He  tried  to  recover  something  like  dignity  before 
his  men.  The  men,  on  their  part,  suppressed  their 
merriment.  Without  another  word  from  anybody 
the  boat  returned  to  the  ship. 

It  was  just  as  the  second  mate  had  predicted. 
The  old  man  flew  into  a  terrible  passion,  swore 
hideous  blasts  of  blubber-slicer  profanity,  cursed 
everybody  and  everything  from  the  chief  mate  to 
the  carpenter's  ditty-box,  and  vowed  he'd  have 
that  Townsend  back  in  his  clutches  again  if  he  had 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND    BACK   AGAIN.          65 

to  chase  him  till  the  end  of  time.  He  didn't  care 
what  it  cost.  Hed  get  even  with  that  cussed 
young  beach-comber  if  he  had  to  die  for  it,  and 
all  the  rest  of  us  along  with  him.  He'd  rather 
get  a  good  fierce  grip  on  Ed.  Townsend  than  try 
out  the  last  sperm  whale  in  the  South  Pacific  — 
he'd  be  blowed  if  he  wouldn't ! 

But,  as  on  former  occasions,  we  saw  the  gale 
blow  by.  The  worse  the  old  man  raged  the 
sooner  he  would  calm  down.  And  when  the 
tempest  was  over,  all  that  remained  of  the  case 
against  Townsend  was  a  sincere  desire,  with 
a  proportionate  determination,  to  recover  the 
services  of  so  good  a  sailor. 

So  the  next  day  we  stood  in  to  another  bayr 
about  four  miles  to  the  leeward  of  the  place  that 
had  witnessed  Townsend's  escape.  There,  unable 
to  drop  our  mud-hook,  we  lay  off  and  on. 

We  had  not  been  long  in  the  bay  before  a  canoe 
came  off  with  a  white  man  and  two  natives.  That 
was  just  the  very  thing  the  old  man  wanted.  He 
received  the  visitors  with  eager  welcome,  invited 
them  into  the  cabin,  ordered  drinks  for  four,  and 
dismissed  the  steward,  warning  him  to  shut  the 
door  tight  behind  him. 

The  quartette  remained  in  solemn  executive 
session  for  half  an  hour.  Then  the  cabin  door 


66         BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN. 

opened,  the  men  came  up  on  deck,  and  as  the 
visitors  clambered  down  into  their  canoe  again  I 
heard  the  old  man  whisper  over  the  rail,  "  Now 
remember,  my  man,  two  white  flags  and  you  get 
your  reward !  " 

Then  we  stood  off  and  put  to  sea,  cruising  the 
grounds  again  looking  for  whales. 

One  warm,  bright,  clear-shining  Southern  morn 
ing  we  were  fanning  along  under  a  cloud  of  canvas 
over  a  delightfully  smooth  sea,  when  a  cry  from 
the  clouds  called  down  the  spirited  warning  I  had 
heard  on  a  former  occasion  : 

"  There  she  blows  !     Sperm  whale  !  " 

"Where  away?" 

There  was  breathless  excitement  on  deck.  My 
heart  hammered  against  my  ribs.  I  shook  with 
bewildered  suspense. 

"  Four  points  on  the  lee  bow,  sir." 

The  words  stabbed  through  and  through  me. 

"How  far  off?" 

"  Three  miles,  sir." 

The  captain  was  in  his  element.  His  eyes 
blazed.  His  face  was  white.  His  voice  was  harsh 
and  strident.  He  was  master  of  a  splendid 
occasion. 

"  Call  all  hands  !  "  he  thundered.  "  Get  your 
boats  ready !  Square  the  mainyard !  Put  the 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN.         67 

helm  up  and  keep  her  off ! "  Heavens,  what 
confusion  ! 

"  Stand  by  your  boats  !  " 

At  that,  every  man  knew  his  place  and  sprang 
for  it  with  an  eager  bound  of  joy.  I  was  among 
them.  For  the  first  time  in  my  young  life  I  was 
to  go  in  a  whale-boat.  I  was  in  the  mate's  boat. 

"  Lower  away  boats  !  "  bellowed  His  Majesty. 

Instantly  the  mate  and  the  boat-steerer  sprang 
into  the  cedar  boat  —  one  in  either  end,  boat- 
steerer  forward,  officer  aft  —  and  our  crew  were 
over  the  ship's  side  before  the  boat  splashed  in 
the  water.  We  pounced  upon  our  thwarts,  seized 
our  long  oars,  looked  sharp  astern,  and  took  the 
prompt  word  of  command.  I  pulled  after  oar. 

The  sail  was  up  in  a  twinkling.  It  bellied  out 
full.  We  dashed  headlong  after  our  prey.  We 
were  in  the  lead.  The  captain  and  the  second 
mate  followed  close. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  dazzling  sensations 
of  that  first  moment  —  the  tall  ship,  with  her 
checkered  sides  and  her  huge  white  davits ;  the 
two  sharp-bowed  clinker  built  boats  —  five  long 
oars  in  each ;  two  on  one  side,  three  on  the  other ; 
the  sun-glint  upon  the  oar-blades  as  they  lifted 
above  the  surface,  the  white  splash  when  they 
dipped  again ;  the  rapid,  nervous,  brutal  stroke ; 


68        BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN. 

the  pose  of  the  officers  as  they  stood  in  the  stern- 
sheets  of  the  boats,  each  with  his  lifted  left  hand 
holding  the  steering  oar,  and  each  with  his  right 
hand  pushing  upon  the  stroke  oar  ;  and,  yet  more 
vivid,  the  one  figure  I  could  see  in  our  own  boat. 
For  the  mate  stood  last,  steering  with  one  hand 
and  helping  me  row  with  the  other. 

How  those  men  sprang  to  their  oars  —  it  makes 
my  blood  tingle  to  recall.  The  oars  bent  in  the 
water.  We  ripped  through  the  waves,  the  spray 
dashing  high  and  white.  We  were  chasing  the 
whale  ! 

And  here  is  the  wonderful  thing.  I  had  not  yet 
got  a  glimpse  of  the  whale.  In  the  confusion  and 
excitement  of  lowering  away,  I  had  not  even  seen 
the  column  of  vapor  that  marked  him  to  view.  I 
sat  toiling  in  that  pitching  and  careening  boat, 
with  my  back  toward  the  whale. 

It  was  terrible  —  going  to  my  death,  it  might 
be,  and  going  backward ! 

The  mate's  face  reassured  me.  He  was  cool 
and  determined  —  teeth  clenched,  eyes  glaring, 
brows  knitted,  but  not  a  sign  of  anxiety.  He 
knew  no  such  thing  as  fear. 

He  thrust  out  his  chin.  I  could  see  the  cords 
draw  stiff  in  his  neck.  His  face  was  red  from 
exertion.  Every  nerve  thrilled  with  a  fierce  joy. 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN.         69 

He  whispered  encouragement  to  his  crew  —  hissed 
it  —  gasped  it. 

"  Spring  hard,  my  lively  hearties !  Spring 
hard !  Break  a  stick,  will  you  ?  will  you  ?  break 
a  stick !  Come,  come,  come,  —  spring  hard  !  " 

We  pulled  like  mad. 

"  Not  a  word  —  not  a  word  !  If  you  make  the 
least  bit  of  noise  I'll  brain  every  one  of  you ! 
Come,  come,  —  break  an  oar!" 

We  exerted  ourselves  to  the  uttermost.  We 
bent  the  oars  till  I  thought  they  would  snap 
in  two. 

"  Give  away,  boys  !     Spring  hard !  " 

The  captain  tried  his  best  to  outfoot  us.  The 
water  leaped  in  foam  around  the  prow  of  his  boat. 
Suddenly  the  mate's  face  changed.  He  bit  his 
lip.  His  eyes  stared  fixedly.  He  threw  back 
his  head. 

"  Peak  your  oar,"  he  hissed.  Then  he  shouted, 
"  Stand  up  and  let  him  have  it  !  " 

I  thought  my  heart  would  burst.  Everything 
swam  before  me.  I  gripped  my  oar  tight.  I 
thought  I  was  fainting. 

"  Starn  all,"  the  mate  roared.  "  Starn  all,  and 
get  out  of  the  suds  !  " 

I  fell  forward  with  my  full  weight  upon  my  oar. 
The  mast  and  sail  came  down  as  by  magic.  The 


70         BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN. 

mate  rushed  forward ;  the  harpooner  rushed  aft ; 
they  changed  places.  The  line  leaped  out  of  its 
Flemish  coil  in  the  tub. 

We  were  fast  to  a  whale  ! 

The  whale  sounded  and  the  line  flew  after  him. 
It  smoked  around  the  loggerheard,  it  buzzed  as  it 
raced  past  the  men,  it  groaned  in  the  chocks. 
They  poured  water  on  the  loggerhead  to  keep  it 
from  taking  fire.  The  whale,  with  two  harpoons 
in  him,  took  two  hundred  fathoms  of  our  line. 

He  was  gone  but  five  minutes. 

Then,  oh  the  horror!  A  vast,  black,  shining 
mass  stood  up  ten  feet  out  of  water  on  our  lee 
beam.  It  was  the  whale.  He  had  come  up  head 
first,  a  hundred  feet  away. 

The  boat-steerer  swung  the  steering-oar  with  all 
his  might.  The  boat  instantly  turned  half  about. 

"  Haul  line,  all  hands  ! "  whispered  the  boat- 
steerer.  The  Manila  line  came  in  wet  and  heavy, 
and  ran  back  into  the  stern-sheets.  We  were 
gaining  upon  our  prey. 

"  Take  your  oars  now." 

Again  we  were  brought  with  our  backs  to  the 
whale.  The  awful  moment  was  at  hand.  Oh,  for 
eyes  in  the  back  of  my  head  !  The  officer  must 
already  be  standing  up,  lance  in  hand,  ready  to 
strike  the  murderous  blow. 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND    BACK   AGAIN.        71 

The  boat-steerer's  mouth  was  half-open  with 
expectancy  —  and  behold !  Almost  against  our 
boat,  and  just  awash  of  the  surface,  the  monstrous 
black  bulk  of  the  whale !  He  stretched  huge  and 
dim  under  water.  Only  part  of  him  could  be 
seen.  A  slanting  column  of  hot  white  vapor  stood 
up  ten  feet  tall,  like  a  rakish  mast.  It  was  the 
whale's  spout. 

When  the  mate's  lance  had  been  sent  into  the 
whale's  vitals,  the  boat  dashed  away  from  the 
monster,  and  I  got  my  first  good  view  of  him. 
He  was  cutting  and  thrashing  like  a  cat  in  a  fit. 
The  water  all  round  him  was  crimson.  Jets  of 
thick,  cloggy  blood  —  a  hogsheadful  at  each  jet  — 
leaped  six  feet  high  from  his  spout-hole.  Then 
gradually  the  jets  grew  feebler.  Then  the  blood 
merely  poured  out.  Then  the  whale  took  a  swift, 
wide  circle  against  the  sun,  threw  his  whole  mass 
out  of  water,  breaching;  fell  on  his  side  with 
a  hideous,  wallowing  splash ;  stuck  one  fin  up, 
quivering  ;  dropped  his  huge,  ivory-toothed  jaw, 
and  lay  dead,  in  a  lather  of  blood  and  foam  ! 

An  involuntary  yell  of  triumph  went  up  simul 
taneously  from  all  three  boats. 

We  rowed  up  to  the  whale,  and  before  we 
attached  our  tow-rope,  the  mate  ran  his  lance  into 
the  whale's  eye  to  make  sure  the  life  was  all  gone 


72        BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN. 

out  of  him.  He  never  even  quivered.  So  the 
line  was  made  fast  to  a  slit  cut  in  old  Blubber's 
spoui>hole,  and  we  towed  his  huge  carcass  to  the 
Swift.  On  the  way  thither,  Brother  Bowline, 
who  was  pulling  bow  oar,  leaned  forward  between 
strokes,  and  said,  in  jerky  phrases  interrupted  by 
his  work,  "  I  tell  you,  Charlie,  young  Townsend 
would  be  sorry  enough  —  if  he  could  see  us  now, 
don't  you  —  say  so,  boy  ?  Never  saw  prettier 
fight,  no  —  body  hurt,  nothin'  broke.  Lord,  how 
I  pity  that  fool  on  the  island  !  " 

It  amazed  me  to  see  how  easily  we  towed  the 
tremendous,  sixty-foot  carcass.  After  we  once 
got  the  whale  started  he  seemed  to  propel  himself. 
You  would  never  think  it  from  his  "  model,"  and 
yet  the  big  beast  can  run  like  a  race-horse  when 
he's  alive.  The  motion  is  all  but  effortless  —  a 
little  squirming  movement  of  the  tail  sends  him 
whizzing  through  the  water. 

We  cut  that  whale  in  and  boiled  out  his  blubber. 

Then  we  set  about  a  most  unaccountable  task. 
The  old  man  ordered  it  and  we  had  to  obey,  but 
we  growled  while  we  worked.  The  task  was  no 
less  than  the  sending  down  of  our  light  yards  — 
top-gallants  and  royals  —  and  the  striking  of  fore 
and  mizzen-top-gallant  masts.  There  seemed  to 
be  no  need  for  such  a  procedure.  There  was  only 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND    BACK   AGAIN.        73 

a  very  light  breeze  blowing,  and  not  a  sign  of  a 
storm  anywhere. 

Old  Bowline  thought  the  crew  were  being  hazed. 
He  reminded  his  shipmates  that  the  old  man  had 
had  asuch  times"  before.  Didn't  every  man 
remember  pounding  the  anchor  hour  after  hour  ? 
Could  anybody  forget  the  unnecessary  holyston 
ing  of  the  deck  ?  Had  nobody  any  recollection  of 
wearing  out  his  knees  pushing  a  "  prayer  book  " 
—  and  swearing  inside  his  jumpers  while  he  did  it  ? 

I,  for  my  part,  had  quite  different  suspicions. 
I  could  not  shake  myself  wholly  free  of  the  notion 
that  all  this  change  aboard  the  Swift  was  in  some 
way  connected  with  the  old  man's  farewell  admoni 
tion  to  the  beach-comber :  "  Remember,  now.  two 
white  flags,  and  you  get  your  reward !  " 

After  ten  days  had  gone  by,  an  island  rose 
proudly  out  of  the  ocean. 

It  was  the  same  green,  wooded  paradise  we  had 
last  put  out  from  —  a  beautiful,  mountainous  oasis, 
if  one  may  so  speak,  in  the  vast  waste  of  blue 
waters. 

We  stood  in  for  the  beach-comber's  bay,  my 
fancy  big  with  expectancy.  I  knew  now  why 
the  old  man  had  disguised  the  ship. 

It  all  fell  out  just  as  I  had  expected.  We  beat 
our  way  up  the  harbor,  and  I  watched  the  shore 


74         BRINGING    MR.    TOWNSEND    BACK   AGAIN. 

with  eager  eyes.  Presently  I  saw  a  canoe  coming 
off,  dancing  on  the  swell,  her  paddles  dipped  first 
one  side  and  then  the  other,  six  Kanakas  on  her 
thwarts  and  a  white  man  in  either  end.  Each 
white  man  held  up  a  white  flag. 

Full  of  waggish  fun,  the  old  man  made  ready  to 
wear  ship  as  soon  as  the  canoe  approached,  and 
when  the  Swift  came  round  so  as  to  expose  the 
five  bold  capitals  painted  across  her  stern,  one  of 
the  white  flags  went  down  as  if  the  man  in  the 
canoe's  prow  had  suddenly  been  shot.  The  man 
fell  flat  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  burying  his 
face  in  his  hands. 

He  was  our  man  Townsend ! 

The  beach-comber  brought  the  canoe  alongside, 
and  her  crew,  Townsend  not  excepted,  clambered 
on  board. 

We  shouted  with  wicked  glee.  «  What'd  I  tell 
you,"  said  Old  Bowline.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  you 
was  a  blarsted  ninny  ever  to  desert  ?  Now  you've 
got  your  come-up-ance  !  "  I  called  out,  "  Hoist 
by  your  own  petard ;  hanged  on  your  own 
gallows;  caught  by  your  own  flag !  "  But  the 
captain  called  us  all  aft  and  prepared  to  lay  down 
the  law. 

We  stood  in  a  sort  of  loose  ring  on  the  quarter 
deck.  Townsend  faced  the  captain.  Poor  truant, 
he  was  pale  as  the  ship's  courses ! 


BRINGING   MR.    TOWNSEND   BACK   AGAIN.         <0 

The  old  man  looked  the  picture  and  personifica 
tion  of  awful  wrath. 

"Townsend,"  he  began  in  a  sepulchral  tone 
that  made  us  all  shiver  —  but  he  never  got  any 
further  with  his  intended  oration. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  ha-a-a  !  "  he  bellowed.  "  Thought 
you'd  run  away  from  the  captain  of  the  whaling 
ship  Swift ,  didrit  you  f  Oh,  ha  !  —  ha  !  —  ha !  — 
ha-a-a !  Come,  my  hearties,  just  tow  this  deserter 
before  the  mast  and  tell  him  what  you  think  of 
him  !  Far  as  I'm  concerned  I've  got  only  this  to 
say :  if  the  poor  fool  plays  me  another  trick  like 
this,  I'll  make  it  hot  for  him !  " 

Then,  turning  to  the  beach-comber,  he  said, 
"  We'll  settle  accounts  in  the  cabin,  if  you  like  !  " 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  SAMOA. 

IT  was  in  1839  that  the  Swift  visited  Apia  on 
the  Samoan  group,  now  famous  as  having  been 
the  home  of  the  writer  Robert  Louis  Stevenson, 
and  for  years  the  only  place  where  he  could  live, 
for  any  less  beneficent  climate  would  have  been 
death  to  him. 

At  the  time  the  Swift  touched  there  little 
missionary  work  had  then  been  done,  and  lawless 
ness  and  license  made  the  place  anything  but 
a  pleasant  one  in  which  to  take  liberty.  But 
sailors  are  bold  by  nature  and  by  habit,  and  the 
Swift's  crew  were  many  times  ashore  during  the 
fifteen  months  when  the  vessel  was  cruising  in 
the  vicinity.  One  village,  to  distinguish  it  from 
others,  was  called  "Devil's  Town,"  a  most 
appropriate  name. 

A  short  time  before  the  arrival  of  the  Swift 
a  vessel  had  foundered  on  the  reefs,  and  from  the 
wreck  there  had  been  brought  ashore  several 
hundred  dollars  worth  of  copper.  This  was 
secured  by  the  Swift's  captain  by  the  payment 
of  some  cotton  cloth,  two  barrels  of  rum,  and 
a  few  other  things  of  comparatively  slight  value. 


A    GLIMPSE    OF    SAMOA.  77 

From  the  island  the  ship  was  provided  with 
"  yams,"  a  vegetable  somewhat  resembling  the 
potato,  some  of  which  weigh  from  twelve  to 
fifteen  pounds  ;  "tarrow,"  a  kind  of  Samoan  turnip, 
and  different  kinds  of  fruit. 

The  Swift  brought  away  from  Samoa  a  white 
man,  who  had  married  a  native.  He  was  loth 
to  leave  her,  and  she  was  almost  heart-broken  at 
losing  him,  but  the  thought  of  home  was  stronger 
than  his  affection  for  his  native  bride,  and  so 
they  parted. 

The  soil  of  the  Samoan  group,  or  Navigator's 
Islands,  is  enriched  by  the  decomposition  of 
volcanic  rocks,  and  so  the  vegetation  is  luxurious 
and  the  flowers  are  exceedingly  brilliant. 

In  1830  the  Christian  religion  began  to  work 
its  slow  change  among  the  people,  and  now 
nearly  all  of  the  inhabitants  are  Christians. 

In  1889  the  three  powers  most  interested  in 
the  matter  —  England.  Germany  and  the  United 
States  —  recognized  the  independence  of  Samoa, 
and  its  right  to  elect  its  own  chief  or  king 
according  to  its  own  laws  and  customs,  making  at 
the  same  time,  however,  provision  for  the 
establishment  of  a  superior  court  for  the  adjust 
ment  of  claims  and  titles  to  lands,  the  raising  of 
taxes,  and  the  restriction  of  the  sale  and  use  of 


78  A   GLIMPSE   OP   SAMOA. 

arms  and  intoxicating  liquors.  In  spite  of  all 
this,  in  1892  there  began  a  civil  war,  which  was 
only  terminated  by  the  intervention  of  German, 
British  and  American  war  vessels. 

Up  and  down  went  the  Swift  after  leaving 
Samoa,  calling  at  this  port  for  a  little  stay, 
putting  in  at  that  harbor  for  a  day's  replenishing 
and  refreshment,  and  by-and-by  the  anchor  was 
made  ready  to  throw  in  the  harbor  of  that  land 
which  poets  have  sung  and  sailors  have  loved 
through  many  and  many  a  year;  the  loveliest 
and  most  welcome  of  all  the  islands  of  the 
sleeping  southern  sea,  —  Otaheite. 

Leaving  these  islands  and  after  cruising  for 
several  months,  looking  from  the  masthead,  with 
not  less  than  four  men  on  the  top  gallant  cross- 
trees,  from  daylight  to  dark,  and  finding  the 
sperm  whales  not  plenty,  we  put  away  for  the 
Society  Islands.  After  a  pleasant  passage,  wre 
had  the  most  beautiful  island  of  all  the  Pacific 
in  sight,  and  with  Kanaka  Jim  Crook  Toe  as  pilot 
through  the  Towenor  passage  we  passed  inside 
the  reefs.  With  a  spanking  breeze  we  run  down, 
with  coral  reefs  on  either  side  of  the  ship,  for 
three  or  four  miles  to  one  of  the  finest  harbors  in 
the  world,  —  Papiete,  in  the  island  of  Tahiti,  — 
where  we  found  six  or  eight  American  whalers, 


A    GLIMPSE    OF    SAMOA.  79 

one  French  frigate,  and  two  sloops  of  war. 
Having  hauled  the  ship  in  shore,  one  chain  cable 
was  taken  from  stern  port  to  shore  and  secured 
to  the  breadfruit  tree,  and,  with  one  anchor 
ahead  and  both  chains  hove  taut,  the  ship  was 
safely  moored. 

This  was  the  first  port  for  eighteen  months, 
with  anchor  only  dropped  once  during  that  time ; 
and  in  all  this  eighteen  months  without  a 
symptom  of  scurvy  or  sickness  of  any  kind,  as 
I  recollect  it. 

Having  the  ship  safely  moored,  the  captain 
comfortably  established  at  his  hotel  on  shore,  the 
first  officer,  by  order  of  the  master,  commences 
overhauling  and  putting  in  order  from  the  rails 
to  truck,  sending  every  yard  down,  loosening 
truss  and  yardarm  bands,  new  parcelling  under 
them  and  replacing,  seeing  that  every  block  with 
sheaves  and  pins  was  in  order,  stripping  the  top 
mast  with  top  gallant  masts  standing,  putting  the 
rigging  in  good  order,  all  being  fitted,  masts 
stayed,  standing  rigging  set  up,  yards  crossed, 
running  rigging  rove,  sails  bent  and  furled  snug, 
and  all  yards  squared.  After  giving  all  hands 
several  days  run  on  shore,  and  having  filled 
our  water  casks,  taken  wood  for  the  season,  taken 
on  board  potatoes  and  yams,  filled  our  lower 


80  A   GLIMPSE    OF    SAMOA. 

rigging  with  bunches  of  bananas,  and  one  boat 
overhead  on  her  keel  nearly  filled  with  luscious 
oranges,  the  ship  was  unmoored,  with  the  captain 
on  board  and  Crooked  Toed  Jim  as  pilot,  we  left 
one  of  the  finest  ports  of  the  world,  and  the  island 
of  Tahiti,  the  garden  of  the  Pacific  Islands,  and  a 
hospitable  and  clever  native  people,  who  at  that 
time  were  being  demoralized  and  decimated 
through  their  intercourse  with  what  we  term 
the  higher  civilization. 

We  proceeded  on  our  voyage,  or  cruise,  to  the 
Vasquez  ground  and  New  Zealand  section,  in 
sight  and  out  of  sight  of  "French  Rock,"  a  small 
island  or  rock  rising  perpendicularly  from  the 
ocean,  several  hundred  feet  high,  located  north 
of  North  Cape  of  New  Zealand,  which  was 
formerly  a  favorite  feeding  ground  for  the  sperm 
whale.  Cruising  here  for  several  months,  then 
further  south  for  right  whales,  and  after  taking 
several,  the  captain  put  away  for  ports  on  the 
Chilean  coast. 


WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE. 

THE  Captain  tells  some  of  his  experiences  at 
Otaheite,  which  show  that  though  it  was  a  natural 
paradise,  its  inhabitants  were  fond  of  rum.  He 
says : 

While  lying  at  Otaheite,  one  of  the  Society 
Islands,  we  retailed  about  fifty  barrels  of  rum  to 
the  natives  and  ship's  crews.  As  cabin-boy,  I  was 
kept  on  board  to  sell  it.  The  price  was  six  dollars 
a  gallon,  or  a  dollar  a  bottle.  We  were  now 
eighteen  months  from  home,  and  we  had  lost  some 
from  leakage.  To  make  up  the  loss,  the  captain 
ordered  me  to  draw  two  pails-full  from  each  barrel 
and  fill  it  up  with  sea  water  before  selling  it.  I 
was  told  not  to  sell  it  to  any  of  the  sailors  from 
the  ships,  but  the  old  man  very  well  knew  they 
would  manage  to  get  a  taste  of  it.  They  put 
their  heads  together  and  cooked  up  a  plan  to  get 
all  the  rum  they  wanted  —  they  would  simply 
make  the  natives  "  rush  the  growler  "  for  them, 
as  they  say  in  the  Bowery  —  give  their  bottles 
and  money  to  the  islanders  and  let  them  negotiate 
the  purchase,  on  the  basis  of  a  promised  commis 
sion.  I  could  always  tell  the  bottles  the  crews 
sent,  for  they  were  particularly  large  and  made  of 


82  WATERED   RUM   AT    OTAHEITE. 

a  peculiar,  dark-colored  glass.  But  this  was  not 
the  only  method  I  had  of  catching  our  men  at 
their  tricks.  For  our  crew  had  liberty  on  shore 
as  long  as  we  lay  at  anchor.  Each  day  the  captain 
allowed  every  sailor  a  dollar,  and  even  more 
liberty-money  went  to  the  officers.  I  would  mark 
the  money  I  gave  them,  and  the  same  coin  would 
come  back  for  rum  and  be  ready  for  distribution 
again  next  day. 

After  awhile  the  crews  from  some  of  the  ships 
were  sick  and  unfit  for  duty,  and  presently  our 
men  were  in  the  same  fix.  The  captains  thought 
it  was  from  drinking  our  rum,  and  they  were 
right,  though  they  were  not  yet  aware  that  we 
had  been  putting  salt  water  in  it.  They  met  and 
had  a  consultation,  and  laid  the  trouble  to  our 
"poor"  rum.  So  they  waited  on  our  captain  and 
requested  him  not  to  sell  their  crews  any  more 
rum,  as  they  were  sure  that  that  was  the  cause  of 
the  sickness. 

The  old  man  replied  that  he  had  sold  no  rum  to 
sailors,  and  that  even  if  they  had  got  hold  of  it  by 
trickery,  it  would  not  make  them  drunk,  for  the 
salt  water  in  it  would  act  as  a  soberer. 

There  was  so  much  complaint  about  our  ship 
that  finally  the  missionaries  went  to  confer  with 
the  "  queen  "  of  the  island.  Her  Koyal  Highness 


WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE.        83 

appointed  a  squad  of  natives  to  act  as  police,  to 
watch  and  arrest  anyone  that  came  ashore  with 
liquor,  and  to  destroy  all  the  rum  they  could 
find.  The  temperance  movement  was  then  in  its 
infancy,  but  there  we  had  legal  restriction  of  the 
liquor  traffic  —  prohibition  with  a  vengeance  ! 

But  there  was  an  old  native  called  "  Jim,"  the 
pilot  for  the  harbor,  who  had  been  one  of  my  best 
customers,  though  he  found  the  salt  water  affected 
him  somewhat.  One  day  Jim  met  the  old  man  on 
shore,  and  told  him  he  would  like  to  buy  a  barrel 
of  rum  and  would  pay  him  his  price,  six  dollars  a 
gallon,  for  it  —  but  only  on  condition  the  captain 
would  put  no  water  in  it.  The  old  man  came  on 
board  in  the  evening,  having  given  the  pilot  his 
word  of  honor  not  to  water  the  rum.  The  old  man 
accordingly  gave  me  instructions  to  fix  a  barrel  of 
rum,  as  Jim  would  come  off  for  it  during  the 
night.  I  was  to  fill  it  and  make  it  tight,  and 
when  all  was  ready,  to  call  the  men  down  to  help 
me  get  it  on  deck  and  overboard  for  Jim  to  take 
on  shore.  I  took  a  lamp,  so  as  to  be  able  to  see 
down  there  in  the  hold  where  the  rum  was  kept, 
and  I  had  just  started  when  the  Captain  called  to 
me  from  his  berth,  for  he  was  in  bed,  ordering  me 
to  take  the  light  out  and  put  it  on  the  cabin  floor. 
I  could  not  see  very  well  what  I  was  doing,  and  I 


g4        WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE. 

was  so  tired  that  the  smell  of  rum  made  me  all 
but  fall  asleep.  I  lay  down  there  in  the  dark 
waiting  for  the  measure  to  fill,  and  in  a  moment 
more  I  was  in  the  Land  of  Nod.  The  old  man, 
however,  was  wide  awake  and  wondered  why  I 
was  so  quiet  and  so  amazingly  slow.  He  shouted 
to  me  to  see  what  had  happened,  and  that  brought 
me  to  my  senses.  The  measure  was  quite  full  by 
that  time  —  oh,  yes !  —  and  nearly  a  barrel  of  that 
villianous  grog  had  run  away  in  the  dark.  We 
got  the  cask  on  deck  and  over  the  side,  with  a 
piece  of  rope  attached  to  it,  all  ready  for  Jim  to 
tow  on  the  shore.  About  midnight  Jim  came  off, 
about  half  drunk,  with  a  bag  of  silver  dollars. 
He  was  ready  to  pay  a  big  price,  but  he  was 
bound  to  have  rum  without  water  in  it.  We 
called  the  old  man,  and  Jim  was  assured  that  it 
was  all  ready  for  him  to  take  away. 

But  Jim  was  not  to  be  fooled  this  way.  He 
wanted  to  satisfy  himself  that  the  rum  had  not 
been  watered.  So  we  were  obliged  to  hoist  it  on 
deck  and  draw  off  a  glassful.  Jim  drank  part  of 
it,  and  then  asked  for  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he 
first  soaked  in  the  rum  and  then  lit  from  the 
lamp.  The  spirits  burned  brightly,  and  that  con 
vinced  Jim  that  the  bargain  was  square  ;  but  he 
failed  to  observe  that  the  paper  itself  remained 


WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE.        85 

unburnt,  being  soaked  with  water  from  the  rum  ; 
for  Jim  was  all  wrong  in  his  notion  that  the  old 
man  was  using  him  right. 

Nevertheless,  Jim  got  the  barrel  on  shore  safe 
and  sound,  dug  a  hole  in  the  sand  near  his  hut, 
and  there  he  buried  his  prize.  But  poor  Jim 
had  the  misfortune  to  lose  the  greater  part  of  the 
stuff,  for  he  went  on  a  roaring  drunk  that  lasted 
several  days,  and  Her  Majesty's  coppers  kept  a 
bright  lookout  for  the  rum.  Now,  as  Jim  had 
regularly  dug  up  the  cask  once  every  day  to  get  a 
new  supply  of  the  fiery  stimulant,  the  Imperial 
Dogberrys  soon  found  it  and  smashed  it,  the  vile 
stuff  soaking  down  into  the  thirsty  soil  with  a 
rapidity  that  quite  broke  old  Jim's  heart. 

Our  ship  got  a  bad,  bad  name  at  Otaheite  — 
they  called  the  old  hooker  "  The  Floating  Grog 
shop,"  and  we  well  deserved  the  title.  And  yet  I 
would  have  you  remember,  reader,  that  I  was  not 
in  any  way  responsible  for  that  rum-selling, 
though  every  infernal  drop  was  sold  at  my  hands. 
I  was  only  a  cabin-boy,  and  I  had  to  do  what  I 
was  told  to  do,  and  that  was  the  honorable 
business  the  old  man  set  me  about. 

Just  one  other  incident  of  our  stay  at  Otaheite 
seems  to  me  worth  telling.  I  was  not  allowed  to 
go  ashore  with  the  crew  on  liberty,  as  I  was  the  only 


86        WATERED  RUM  AT  OTAHEITE. 

one  the  Captain  would  trust  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  selling  or  dealing  out  the  rum.  There  was 
a  boy  about  my  age  on  one  of  the  ships  in  port, 
a  schoolmate  of  mine  back  in  New  Bedford.  He 
came  on  board  to  see  me,  as  he  was  going  ashore 
on  a  day's  liberty,  and  I  begged  the  captain  to  let 
me  go  with  him.  After  some  teasing  the  old  man 
consented,  telling  me  to  give  the  keys  of  the  rum- 
hold  to  one  of  the  petty  officers  when  I  left  the 
ship.  Now  the  second  mate  was  on  board  and 
had  charge  of  the  ship,  while  the  first  mate  and 
watch  were  ashore  on  liberty.  As  I  was  about  to 
leave  the  ship,  the  second  mate  asked  me  for  the 
keys.  I  told  him  I  had  obeyed  the  captain's 
orders  and  had  given  them  to  another  officer.  I 
started  ashore,  feeling  there  would  be  some 
trouble  ;  and  in  this  I  was  not  far  wrong,  for  when 
I  came  on  board  that  night,  I  found  that  there 
had  been  a  fight  for  the  keys,  that  the  second 
mate  was  crazy  drunk  and  wanted  to  leave  the 
ship,  and  that  the  old  man  had  threatened  to  put 
him  in  irons.  That  —  need  I  add  ?  —  was  my 
very  last  holiday  on  Otaheite. 


RIGHT  WHALES. 

WE  cruised  about  three  months  in  the  Southern 
Ocean,  looking  for  right  whales.  We  saw  many, 
and  took  six  hundred  barrels  of  oil  and  about  five 
thousand  pounds  of  bone. 

One  day,  when  the  weather  was  fine  and  the 
ocean  very  calm,  we  lowered  and  gave  chase 
to  two  monstrous  right  whales  that  were  going 
slowly  to  the  leeward.  The  captain's  boat  came 
up  to  them  first  and  succeeded  in  striking  one. 
Instantly  down  went  both  the  whales.  When 
they  came  up  again,  the  mate  struck  the  other 
one.  They  proved  to  be  a  bull  and  a  cow  —  the 
cow  was  struck  first. 

The  bull  made  the  sea  foam.  He  cut  around  in 
great  fury  and  stove  two  of  our  boats  —  the  cap 
tain's  and  the  mate's  —  and  the  lines  had  to  be 
cut  to  get  clear.  The  second  mate  came  along 
lively  and  picked  up  the  crews,  which  came  near 
sinking  his  boat.  Eighteen  men  in  one  boat,  and 
the  ship  four  miles  away  to  leeward  —  a  pleasant 
prospect !  And  as  the  wind  had  died  down  com 
pletely  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  row,  and 
that  in  an  all  but  sinking  boat,  so  crowded  you 
could  hardly  move  without  knocking  your  neighbor 
overboard. 


88  RIGHT    WHALES. 

But  that  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  The  worst  of 
it  fell  upon  myself  and  another  dare-devil  young 
chap  —  or  rather  he  and  I  brought  it  down  upon 
ourselves,  for  we  volunteered.  It  was  this  way. 
The  captain  was  bound  not  to  lose  sight  of  the 
stoven  boats,  and  wanted  two  of  the  men  to  stay 
by  them  until  he  could  bring  the  old  hooker  and 
pick  them  up.  "We  two,  being  young  and  fearless, 
offered  to  take  the  job.  We  stood  each  on  the 
stern  and  bow  of  a  boat,  sunken  just  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  hung  on  to  a  flag-pole  for  three 
terrible  hours,  with  the  two  wounded  whales 
cutting  about  and  making  the  water  white  with 
their  huge  flukes,  only  a  little  way  from  where 
we  stood. 

All  that  while  we  were  afraid  for  our  lives,  as 
we  were  out  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean  and  the 
ship  was  four  miles  off. 

It  is  always  with  a  shudder  that  I  recall  that 
adventure,  though  fifty  years  and  more  have  gone 
by  since  then.  But  I  remember  that  even  when 
the  danger  was  worst,  we  found  room  for  joking, 
and  one  of  our  men  cried  out,  "  Better  have  paid 
your  washwoman !  "  That  is  the  usual  gibe 
when  a  man  is  caught  in  a  stoven  boat,  for  there 
is  a  belief  among  whalers  that  if  you  don't  pay 
your  washwoman  you'll  suffer  the  penalty  of 
getting  your  boat  smashed. 


CUTTING    HOLE  THROUGH    SCALP  FOR   HEAD   CHAINS,    SHOWING   "BONNET' 


HISTORIC   MUTINEERS. 

MAKING  our  passage  to  the  eastward,  when  in 
the  longitude  of  Pitcairn  Island  the  ship  was  put 
to  the  north,  and  at  8  A.  M.  on  the  next  day  we 
made  the  land,  appearing  more  like  a  sail  or  ship 
in  the  long  distance.  On  nearing  we  found  the 
island  to  be  nearly  2000  feet  high  and  about  five 
miles  in  circumference,  with  a  ledge  of  rocks 
making  off  a  few  rods  from  the  north  and  south 
points.  When  within  two  miles  of  the  island, 
five  of  the  natives  came  off  in  their  canoes,  the 
canoes  being  dug  out  of  a  tree  ten  or  twelve  feet 
long  and  about  two  feet  wide,  with  keel  from 
three  to  four  inches  broad. 

The  natives,  before  coming  on  board,  very 
politely  asked  permission  of  the  captain.  They 
speak  very  good  English  when  talking  to  English 
or  Americans,  but  not  intelligible  at  all  to  me 
when  talking  to  each  other,  owing  to  their 
talking  so  very  quickly.  At  nine  in  the  morning 
I  went  on  shore,  and  found  it  very  tiresome  in 
walking  up  the  long,  steep  hill  or  cliff.  Their 
houses  are  built  of  board,  planed,  the  sides  and 
ends.  The  sides  ship  and  unship,  on  account  of 
it  being  very  warm.  The  roofs  are  thatched  with 


90  HISTORIC   MUTINEERS. 

the  leaves  of  the  trees.  We  found  the  people 
very  friendly  and  hospitable,  the  young  married 
and  single  women  very  diffident.  They  are  tall 
—  the  most  of  them  —  and  handsomely  shaped. 
Their  every-day  dress  is  a  loose  gown,  with  no 
shoes,  bonnet  or  handkerchief.  Their  children 
are  very  pretty  and  healthy,  and  are  good 
scholars.  The  boys  at  10  and  11  had  gone  in  the 
arithmetic  as  far  as  the  rule  of  three.  The  men 
are  well  made,  tall,  with  good  features,  and  are 
very  strong.  They  are  very  fair  and  honest  in 
all  their  dealings.  Their  principal  industry  is 
in  cultivating  the  ground.  The  island  is  equally 
divided  among  all  the  people.  In  trading  with 
ships  every  family  sells  an  equal  share.  The 
women  are  very  strong.  I  met  several  coming 
from  the  mountain.  When  down  to  the  village  I 
took  the  load  from  some  of  their  backs,  and 
counted  five  large  watermelons  as  one  load. 
When  the  boats  returned  to  the  ship  with  the 
captain,  he  was  accompanied  by  John  Adams,  the 
son  of  John  Adams,  one  of  the  survivors  of  the 
Bounty,  and  Christian,  the  son  of  Lieutenant 
Christian,  the  leader  of  the  mutiny. 

A  real  romance  of  the  sea  is  that  surrounding 
Pitcairn  and  Norfolk  Islands.  For  from  the 
mutineers  of  the  Bounty,  an  English  ship,  and 


HISTORIC   MUTINEERS.  91 

their  native  wives  has  grown  up  a  peaceful, 
God-fearing  community  in  an  ocean  home  on  the 
other  side  of  the  globe. 

But  few  who  listen  to  the  Captain's  stories 
know  that  the  Bounty,  commanded  by  Lieutenant 
Bligh,  a  Cornishman  who  had  sailed  with  Captain 
Cook,  was  fitted  out  to  carry  breadfruit  plants 
from  Otaheite,  one  of  the  Society  Islands,  to  the 
West  Indies.  Certain  slave  holders  with  human 
property  in  the  West  Indies  had  represented  to 
His  Majesty  George  III.  that  breadfruit  would 
constitute  a  very  cheap  and  entirely  adequate 
food  for  their  bondsmen  in  those  far  away  isles. 
This  view  the  monarch  readily  adopted,  and 
measures  were  quickly  taken  to  secure  the 
suggested  advantage. 

It  was  in  1787  the  ship  sailed  away  on  her 
adventurous  voyage,  and  a  stormy  one  it  proved. 
The  vessel  was  buffeted  by  winds  and  waves, 
she  was  badly  provisioned,  and  her  captain 
and  officers  were  severe  and  cruel.  The  route 
marked  out  by  the  government  was  abandoned, 
and  the  vessel  touched  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
where  she  was  refitted.  From  there  she  went  to 
Australia,  and  after  a  short  stay  sailed  directly  to 
Otaheite,  where  she  arrived  in  October.  All 
were  well  received,  and  Captain  Bligh  and  his 
officers  were  treated  like  royal  visitors. 


92  HISTORIC    MUTINEERS. 

The  Captain  who  has  touched  at  Otaheite  in 
the  Swift  describes  it  as  one  of  the  dream  gardens 
of  the  world.  He  says  it  is  cradled  in  the  arms 
of  the  tender-breathed  Pacific,  with  an  atmos 
phere  like  etherealized,  gentle-vintaged  wine, 
endowed  with  beauty  everywhere  present,  every 
where  voluptuous,  marvellously  prolific  in  dif 
ferent  fruits,  wonderfully  productive  of  deep- 
tinted  foliage  and  brilliantly  colored  flowers, 
seemingly  a  favorite  which  nature  has  blessed 
with  her  most  lavish  bounty,  decked  with  her 
most  glowing  adornment. 

The  natives  are  a  fine  looking  people,  the 
women  being  especially  attractive,  so  it  is  not 
strange  that  the  sailors  of  the  Bounty  thought 
it  a  paradise  when  they  landed  there  years  ago. 
The  harsh  treatment  of  Captain  Bligh  still 
continued,  and  it  seemed  as  if  it  was  almost  more 
than  the  men  could  bear.  Captain  Bligh  gave 
the  chief  many  presents,  and  in  return  the  vessel 
was  loaded  with  breadfruit  trees.  For  over  five 
months  the  Bounty  lay  in  this  friendly  port,  but 
the  captain  began  to  suspect  his  men  of  treachery 
and  so  he  sailed  away  towards  the  West  Indies. 

Twenty-four  days  after,  the  mutiny  broke  out. 
Captain  Bligh  on  his  return  to  England  gave  a 
graphic  account  of  the  affair,  which,  however,  is 
considered  somewhat  unjust. 


HISTORIC    MUTINEERS.  93 

The  mutiny  was  led  by  the  mate  Christian,  an 
Englishman  of  good  family,  and  it  seems  that  the 
idea  of  the  men  was  to  return  to  the  island,  where 
they  could  live  almost  without  work.  No  blood 
was  shed,  but  the  captain  and  a  portion  of  the 
crew  were  turned  adrift  in  an  open  boat,  from 
which  they  were  rescued  after  a  long  and  perilous 
voyage,  and  returned  to  England. 

It  was  decided  by  government  that  the  muti 
neers  must,  if  possible,  be  apprehended  and  fitly 
punished.  The  brig  Pandora,  of  twenty-four 
guns  and  a  hundred  and  sixty  men,  under 
command  of  Captain  Edwards,  was  dispatched  to 
Otaheite  to  secure  such  of  the  offenders  as  might 
be  lingering  there,  and  if  not  all  found,  to  visit 
the  different  groups  of  the  Society  and  Friendly 
Islands,  and  places  in  their  vicinity,  for  the 
mutineers,  who  were  all  to  be  brought  to  England 
in  chains. 

On  March  23,  1791,  the  Pandora  anchored  in 
Matavi  Bay,  Otaheite.  Fourteen  of  the  muti 
neers  were  found,  seized,  and  put  in  irons  on 
board  the  vessel. 

They  knew  nothing  of  the  fate  of  the  Bounty. 
She  had  been  to  the  Island  and  sailed  away  the 
previous  September,  with  seven  native  men  and 
twelve  women,  leaving  these  men  behind.  It 


94  HISTORIC    MUTINEERS. 

was  not  until  1814  that  their  whereabouts  were 
discovered. 

Sir  Thomas  Staines  gives  an  account  of  the 
little  colony  founded  by  Christian  and  his  band. 

"  On  my  passage  from  the  Marquesas  Islands," 
he  says,  "  I  fell  in  with  an  island  where  none  is 
laid  down  in  the  Admiralty  or  other  charts.  .  .  . 
I  hove  to  until  daylight,  and  then  closed  to  ascer 
tain  if  it  was  inhabited,  which  I  soon  discovered 
it  to  be,  and,  to  my  great  astonishment,  found 
that  every  individual  on  the  island  (forty  in 
number )  spoke  very  good  English.  They  proved 
to  be  the  descendants  of  the  deluded  crew  of 
the  Bounty,  who,  from  Otaheite,  proceeded  to 
the  above-mentioned  island,  where  the  ship  was 
burned. 

"  Christian  appears  to  have  been  the  leader 
and  sole  cause  of  the  mutiny  of  that  ship.  A 
venerable  old  man,  named  John  Adams,  is  the 
only  surviving  Englishman  of  those  who  quitted 
Otaheite  in  her,  and  whose  exemplary  conduct 
and  fatherly  care  of  the  whole  of  the  little  colony 
could  not  but  command  admiration.  The  pious 
manner  in  which  all  those  born  on  the  island 
have  been  reared,  the  correct  sense  of  religion 
which  has  been  instilled  into  their  young  minds 
by  this  old  man,  has  given  him  the  pre-eminence 


HISTORIC    MUTINEERS.  95 

over  the  whole  of  them,  to  whom  they  look  up  as 
the  father  of  one  and  the  whole  family. 

"  A  son  of  Christain  was  the  first  born  on  the 
island,  now  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  named 
Thursday  October  Christian;  the  elder  Christian 
fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  jealousy  of  a  Otaheitan  man 
within  three  or  four  years  after  their  arrival  on 
the  island.  ^ 

"  The  island  must  undoubtedly  be  that  called 
Pitcairn,  though  erroneously  laid  down  in  the 
charts.  It  produces  in  abundance  yams,  plan 
tains,  hogs,  goats  and  fowls;  but  the  coast  affords 
no  shelter  for  a  ship  of  any  description,  neither 
could  a  ship  water  there  without  great  difficulty. 

"  During  the  whole  time  they  have  been  on 
the  island  only  one  ship  has  communicated  with 
them,  which  took  place  about  six  years  ago  ;  and 
this  was  the  American  ship  Topaz,  of  Boston, 
Matthew  Folger,  master. 

"  The  island  is  completely  iron-bound  with 
rocky  shores,  and  the  landing  in  boats  must  be  at 
all  times  difficult,  although  the  island  may  be 
safely  approached  within  a  small  distance  by  a 
ship." 

Young  Christian,  a  tall,  straight  limbed,  hand 
some  young  fellow,  with  very  dark  hair  and 
a  winsome,  open  countenance,  visited  Captain 


96  HISTORIC    MUTINEERS. 

Staine's  ship,  his  costume  consisting  of  a  loin, 
or  "  tappa,"  cloth,  and  a  straw  hat  ornamented 
with  black  cock's  feathers.  His  companion  was 
also  a  handsome  youth,  son  of  George  Young,  the 
Bounty's  midshipman.  When  the  young  men 
were  taken  below,  and  refreshments  were  set 
before  them,  they  both  arose,  and  one  of  them 
repeated  with  folded  hands,  "For  what  we  are 
going  to  receive,  the  Lord  make  us  truly 
thankful." 

It  was  found,  indeed,  that  from  their  English 
fathers  and  Otaheitan  mothers  there  had  been 
born  a  race  of  beauties;  olive-skinned,  with 
lovely  dark  eyes,  perfect  teeth,  abundant  dark 
hair,  and  expressions  which  told  of  benevolent 
feelings  and  warm  hearts. 

Many  scenes  of  blood  left  Adams  and  Young 
the  only  survivors  of  the  fifteen  males  who  had 
landed  on  the  island,  and  in  her  preservation  of 
these  two  Providence  was  kind,  for  they  were  the 
two  of  all  the  number  in  whose  hearts  was  the 
resolution  to  make  this  little  sea-pent,  isloated 
island  a  God-fearing  and  intelligent  community. 
They  had  a  Bible  and  a  prayer-book.  Divine 
services  were  held  each  Sunday,  and  morning  and 
evening  prayers  were  said  in  all  the  houses. 
Young  did  not  long  survive  his  companions,  but 


HISTOKIC    MUTINEERS.  97 

Adams  lived  to  be  the  instructor,  the  governor, 
adviser,  and  in  all  essential  things  the  father  of 
the  entire  people.  He  had  a  ring  with  which  he 
for  years  married  every  couple  that  was  united 
on  the  island.  Great  harmony  prevailed  in  the 
little  community.  If  any  difficulty  arose  it  was 
referred  to  "Father  Adams/'  who  always  and 
speedily  managed  to  set  things  right. 

Some  time  previous  to  1825  a  whaleship  which 
anchored  off  the  island  left  on  shore  a  young  man 
who  had  become  so  fascinated  with  the  life  of  the 
small  colony  that  he  wished  to  remain  among  its 
people.  In  this  man  the  young  people  found  an 
enthusiastic  instructor,  and  all  a  close  and 
unselfish  friend.  His  name  was  John  Buffet. 

John  Adams  died  on  March  29,  1829,  sixty-fire 
years  of  age,  having  lived  on  Pitcairn  Island 
forty-one  years.  There  had  come  to  the  island 
in  1828  a  man  named  John  Hunn  Nobbs,  who 
had  married  Sarah,  grand-daughter  of  Fletcher 
Christian.  Mr.  Nobbs  having  proved  an  excellent 
friend  and  wise  counsellor,  on  him  fell  the  mantle 
of  the  expiring  " father"  of  the  people. 

When  in  1851  Rear- Admiral  Fairfax  Moresby 
visited  Pitcairn,  he  took  a  special  interest  in  Mr. 
Nobbs  and  his  family,  and  procured  a  passage  for 
him  to  London,  where  he  was  ordained  a  deacon 

7 


98  HISTORIC   MUTINEERS. 

in  August,  1852,  and  a  priest  in  November.  The 
Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  put  him 
on  its  list  with  a  salary  of  fifty  pounds  a  year, 
and  he  was  introduced  to  many  distinguished 
people,  among  them  being  Queen  Victoria,  who 
gave  him  portraits  of  herself  and  the  Royal  family. 

He  returned  to  Pitcairn  in  1853. 

Pitcairn  had  now  become  too  small  for  its 
inhabitants,  to  which  had  been  added  a  number  of 
English  families,  and  soon  after  the  return  of  Mr. 
Nobbs,  Admiral  Moresby  wrote  the  Admiralty 
that  measures  should  be  taken  for  securing  a 
more  adequate  dwelling  place  for  the  people  of 
this  "  small  rock  in  the  West.''  Government  had 
abandoned  Norfolk  Island  as  a  convict  station,  and 
as  this  island  was  regarded  as  especially  desirable 
for  the  new  home  of  the  Pitcairn  colony,  over 
tures,  which  proved  successful,  were  made  for 
securing  it  for  that  purpose. 

Though  almost  broken-hearted  at  leaving 
their  beloved  Pitcairn,  the  colonists  gratefully 
acquiesced  in  the  plans  made  in  their  behalf,  only 
stipulating  that  they  were  to  live,  as  heretofore, 
in  seclusion  from  the  outside  world. 

They  landed  on  Norfolk  Island  in  June,  1856. 

There  is  nothing  to  relate  of  the  Norfolk 
Islanders,  except  the  gradual  introduction  among 


HISTORIC   MUTINEERS.  99 

them  of  mercantile  life  and  educational  facilities, 
and  the  constant  broadening  and  deepening  of 
life  in  all  its  forms.  The  establishment  on  the 
Island  of  a  mission  college  in  1866,  was  of  the 
greatest  importance  to  the  people. 

Being  at  one  time  near  Savage  Island  in  a  calm 
and  entirely  smooth  sea,  a  large  sperm  whale 
hove  in  sight,  coming  towards  the  ship.  After 
spouting,  or  breathing,  some  fifty  or  sixty  times, 
it  turned  flukes  and  went  down.  The  boats  were 
immediately  lowered  and  placed,  by  direction  of 
the  captain,  when  the  whale  spouted,  having  been 
down  nearly  one  hour.  He  was  nearest  the 
captain's  boat,  who,  with  paddle  and  with  little 
noise,  slipped  alongside  the  big  fellow.  When 
the  boat-steerer  threw  his  harpoons,  only  one  of 
them  entered  the  whale.  He,  not  liking  the 
sensation,  at  once  sounded,  taking  out  nearly  two 
hundred  and  fifty  fathoms  of  line.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  other  boats  were  pulling  for  dear  life  to 
the  assistance  of  the  captain,  who  was  now 
hauling  in  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms  of 
line.  As  the  chief  mate's  boat  drew  near,  the 
whale  having  broke  water  and  for  the  time  being 
very  quiet,  the  captain  called  out  that  he  had  but 
one  iron  in  and  for  us  to  be  quick  and  get  fast. 
Now  the  boat  is  being  rushed  square  off  and  on 


100  HISTORIC   MUTINEERS. 

to  the  whale,  with  boat-steerer  on  his  feet,  harpoon 
in  hand.  Before  near  enough  to  dart,  the  whale 
settles  out  of  sight,  and,  in  an  instant,  rising 
strikes  the  boat  on  the  port  bow  with  his  jaw, 
knocking  all  of  us  overboard  except  the  tub 
oarsman,  who  was  jammed  between  the  tub,  with 
two  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms  of  line  in  it,  and 
the  side  of  the  boat.  When  the  writer  came  up, 
he  caught  the  gunwale,  and,  raising  himself  to 
enter,  he  found  the  whale's  jaw  occupying  the 
length  of  the  boat,  on  the  thwarts  or  seats. 
Thinking  there  was  not  room  for  him,  he  called 
to  the  Swede  to  jump.  At  this  instant  the  whale 
rolled  with  the  line  so  caught  in  his  teeth  as  to 
hold  the  boat  right  over  him.  Starting  at  good 
speed  to  run,  with  boat  thumping  on  his  back, 
until  she  turned  bottom  up,  and  the  poor  Swede 
was  seen  no  more.  The  second  mate's  boat 
approaching,  it  took  the  mate  in,  and,  while  the 
third  mate  picked  up  the  men  and  was  saving 
boat  oars,  etc.,  we  at  once  proceeded  to  help 
the  captain  secure  the  whale.  The  master  was 
a  most  excellent  whaleman,  never  darting  the 
lance  when  he  could  get  near  enough  to  set  on 
the  whale,  that  is,  hold  on  to  the  pole  and  push 
his  lance  into  the  vitals  of  the  whale ;  and  now, 
while  the  vicious  whale  had  his  eye  on  our  boat, 


HISTOKIC    MUTINEERS.:-, »  t  \   /          .101 

the  captain  rushed  in.  In  Ian0e,^ahd;  out:  of  frfre 
spout  hole  with  his  breath  came  the  thick  buckets 
or  barrels  of  blood,  when  the  victory  was  won. 
The  whale  was  taken  to  the  ship,  cut  in,  and 
boiled  out  over  eighty  barrels  of  sperm  oil. 


RUDDER  SIMPSON,   MYSELF 
AND  THE  PERSONAGE. 


**  Strangers  in  strange  places  should  always  be  strangers." 

—  Ruth  Ashmore. 


"  TAINT  much  like  a  New  Bedford  Sunday,  eh 
boy?" 

" Not  by  a  long  sea  mile!  " 

"  Church  in  the  morning  —  Holy  Joe  in  his 
heavenly  togs.  Bull-fight  in  the  afternoon  — 
Holy  Joe  on  deck  with  blood  in  his  for'ard  lights, 
b'gawsh  !  Granny  Howland  !  what  a  crew  these 
here  heathen  Chilenos  be  !  Eh,  boy  ?  " 

"  Pious,  though." 

"Eh?" 

"  Pious,  Rudder,  pious  as  a  saint  in  a  stained- 
glass  window.  I  was  on  shore  yesterday ;  and 
Rudder,  you  ought  toVe  seen  the  turn-out.  Beats 
man-o'-war's  men  at  quarters.  Pretty  as  a  New 
Bedford  Fourth-o'-July.  Long  strings  o'  priests 
and  such ;  big  crew  o'  sogers ;  band  o'  music ; 
flags  and  candles;  and  all  the  dagoes  in  Talca- 
huano  turned  loose  and  shouting  Spanish  so  I 
thought  they'd  bust  an  oar  —  sure !  I  gave 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE.      103 

chase,  o'  course,  and  they  made  off  to  windward 
and  brought  up  in  some  kind  o'  big  square." 

"Plaza,"  said  Kudder.  "That's  what  these 
here  heathen  Chilienos  calls  it." 

"  Yes,"  I  went  on,  "  that's  the  word.  Funny 
lingo  they  talk  here.  And,  Rudder,  that  whole 
turn-out  was  brought  up  all  standing  by  an  order 
from  the  colonel,  or  general,  or  whatever  they 
call  their  f  old  man/  and  then  they  got  out  a 
dummy  of  Judas  Iscariot." 

"Effigy,"  laughed  Rudder,  "That's  the  word 
you're  soundin'  for." 

"  Well,  effigy  then.  That  whole  ship's  company 
fell  in  line  again,  and  peppered  that  effigy  with 
cold  lead.  Then  they  set  the  old  moss-back  afire, 
beginning  with  his  boots,  and  when  the  fire  crept 
up  amidships  he  blew  himself  to  bits,  like  a  bomb 
lance,  and  all  the  people  yelled  and  jumped  and 
crowed.  Don't  you  call  that  pious,  Rudder  ?'' 

"  Well,  t' ain't  my  notion  of  piosity.  Piosity, 
boy,  is  to  keep  out  o'  jail,  keep  out  o'  bull-fights, 
and  steer  clear  o'  them  dev'lish  pulparees.  That's 
what  /  call  piosity.  An'  them  pulparees  —  I  tell 
you,  boy  —  them  pulparees  is  the  sartin  road  to 
Granny  Howlan'  's  wash  tub.  Why,  there's  one 
now,  boy."  (A  moment  of  hesitation,  a  wriggle 
of  futile  resistance.)  "Say  we  go  in?" 


104     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE. 

I  laughed  outright.  So  did  Rudder,  and  in 
we  went. 

A  pulparee  is  by  interpretation  a  grog-shop. 
Pulparia  is  the  Spanish,  but  we  mariners  give 
it  a  turn  of  our  own.  Dark  and  grimy  is  the 
pulparee;  desperate  and  dangerous  are  the  idlers 
that  lounge  there  ;  vile  and  strong  is  the  fiery 
liquor  they  drink. 

I  stepped  across  the  well-worn  threshold  with  a 
stinging  sense  of  guilt.  I  had  never  entered  such 
a  place  before.  I  was  a  thorough-going  teeto 
taller.  And  besides  I  began  to  wonder  how  ever 
should  I  manage  to  comport  myself  becomingly  in 
the  fellowship  of  these  hard  and  reckless  chole 
drinkers.  I  was  sorry,  now,  that  I  had  let  Rudder 
Simpson  take  me  in  tow. 

My  embarrassment,  however,  was  soon  relieved, 
for  a  superb  native,  gorgeous  in  many  dazzling 
colors,  stepped  up  to  Simpson  and  engaged  him 
in  conversation. 

"  Bowling-alley o,"  said  the  glittering  stranger, 
"  Senor  lika  play  nine-pinza  ?  " 

"  You're  right/*  said  Rudder,  flattered  with  the 
attention,  "  Where  away  ?  " 

"  Come,"  said  the  dazzling  personage,  with  a 
stagy  gesture.  He  lookei  as  if  he  had  just 
stepped  out  of  "  Carmen." 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE   PERSONAGE.     105 

The  Personage  led  the  way  into  the  street,  and 
we  followed.  We  passed  on  together  along  a 
thoroughfare  crowded  with  Chilian  merrymakers. 
Here  an  organ  grinder  had  gathered  a  motley 
crowd  of  listeners.  Yonder  a  man  and  a  woman, 
bothpeones,  were  dancing  the  zamacueca.  Leisure 
ly  throngs  strolled  by  on  their  way  to  the 
bull-fight.  Now  and  then  a  pretty  senorita 
peered  out  at  us  through  a  grated  window 
piercing  some  stout  adobe  wall. 

Spanish  was  spoken  on  every  hand.  Kudder 
and  I  enjoyed  the  novelty  of  the  situation.  It 
was  a  great  thing  to  have  a  notable  personage  to 
serve  as  guide  and  guardian,  as  we  roamed  through 
that  old,  white-walled,  red- tiled  Chilian  town. 

We  came  at  last  to  a  sort  of  cheap  inn,  or 
posada,  entering  which,  we  crossed  the  enclosed 
patio  and  found  ourselves  in  the  bowling  alley. 

Here  the  Personage  bargained  with  the  sallow, 
round-shouldered,  little  proprietor,  and  explained 
to  Rudder  the  terms  of  the  agreement.  It  was 
simplicity  itself.  The  loser  of  the  game  was  to 
pay  for  the  use  of  the  alley. 

Then  the  game  began.  The  Personage  threw  off 
his  emerald-hued  poncho  and  gave  it  to  me  to  hold. 

With  a  magnificent  wave  of  his  patrician  hand, 
he  said  to  me,  "  You,  senor,  pick  up  ze  nine-pinza!" 


106     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND    THE    PERSONAGE. 

Rudder  could  not  have  made  me  do  it.  I 
should  have  fought  to  the  last  eyelash.  But  for 
the  personage  —  why,  certainly,  with  pleasure  ! 

It  was  a  great  treat  to  watch  those  two  men 
play.  What  a  curious  contrast !  The  Personage 
would  take  his  cigarrito  between  the  fingers  of  his 
left  hand,  poise  the  wooden  ball  in  the  palm  of  his 
right  hand,  strike  a  startling,  statuesque  attitude, 
and  then,  with  a  sudden  spring  that  sent  the  long 
red  sash  swinging  against  his  yellow  breeches,  and 
brought  the  huge  silver  spurs  of  his  tall  boots 
banging  against  the  floor,  he  would  hurl  the  ball 
down  the  alley.  Then  he  would  pose  like  Hamlet 
when  he  says,  "  To  be  or  not  to  be,"  and  wait  to 
see  the  result. 

Rudder,  on  the  other  hand,  rolled  into  range 
with  a  slovenly  waddle  and  discharged  his  missile 
without  further  ado.  Whish-sh-sh-sht,  bumpety- 
bump-bump-bump,  whir-r-r-r ,  crash  !  Down  would 
go  the  nine-pins  —  never  less  than  six  —  gener 
ally  all  nine !  But  with  the  Personage  it  was 
not  so.  Had  he  been  drinking  augadente  —  who 
knows  ? 

I  picked  up  nine-pins  for  fully  an  hour. 
From  time  to  time  I  saw  a  pained  look  in  the 
Personage's  proud  face,  for  the  Personage  was 
playing  a  losing  game. 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE.     107 

When  the  hour  was  done,  Rudder  said,  "  Now 
colonel,  you  settle  with  the  Czar !  " 

"  / — how  you  say  a?  /  paya  ze  gamo?  No, 
senor,  no  !  You  win,  you  paya !  I  lose  ze  gamo. 
You  lose  ze  oro  —  how  you  say  a  ?  —  ze  monee  !  " 

"No,  ye  don't,"  cried  Rudder.  "  Blowed  if 
ye  do  ! " 

"  Si,  senor.     How  you  say  ?  —  yes,  sirra ! " 

"  Blast  ye  ?  "  bawled  Rudder.  «  Pay  down  that 
cash  or  I'll  make  old  rags  out  o'  yer  rainbow  togs. 
Blowed  if  I  don't !  Hear  that,  Dago  ?  " 

Now,  as  a  matter  of  solemn  fact,  the  Personage 
had  not  so  much  as  a  piastre  in  his  wallet.  He 
had  already  spent  his  last  copper  for  augadente  in 
the  pulparee. 

Rudder  was  not  uncommonly  quick  of  percep 
tion.  It  was  a  moment  before  he  fully  grasped 
the  enormity  of  the  outrage  the  Personage  had 
perpetrated  upon  him.  When  he  saw  through 
the  scheme,  he  boiled  with  wrath.  Before  he 
had  time  to  lay  into  the  Personage,  the  round- 
shouldered  proprietor  stuck  his  sallow  visage 
through  the  door  of  his  lair,  and  seeing  what  was 
up,  made  haste  to  insure  himself  against  fraud. 

He  expostulated  fiercely  with  Rudder  and 
the  Personage,  demanding  four  times  the  usual 
fee. 


108     SIMPSON,    MYSELF    AND    THE    PERSONAGE. 

"  Say,  old  boss,"  said  Rudder,  "  this  sunset 
dandy  here  won't  pay  down  the  cash ;  an'  if  he 
don't,  I'll  shiver  his  blarsted  timbers,  b'gawsh ! 
Hear  that,  ye  blasted  Dago  f  " 

The  Personage  puffed  his  cigar rito  in  silence. 

Rudder  gazed  at  his  enemy  a  second  in  unutter 
able  malice.  Then  he  swung  his  huge  palm  in 
air  and  brought  it  across  the  face  of  the  Per 
sonage  with  a  slam  that  knocked  that  worthy's 
cigarritto  clean  into  his  mouth,  light  and  all ! 

Now,  I  flatter  myself  that  my  wits  work  quicker 
than  Rudder  Simpson's.  In  an  instant  I  got  three 
different  views  of  the  situation.  First,  this  was 
a  den  of  robbers  and  the  Personage  was  a  decoy 
to  lead  us  into  peril,  the  provocation  being  raised 
by  him  to  induce  us  to  begin  the  fight  and  take 
the  consequence  if  ever  the  case  got  into  court. 
Second,  this  was  a  first-class  hotel,  but  full  of  the 
friends  of  the  Personage,  who  would  be  willing  to 
take  his  part  in  a  quarrel.  Third,  the  hotel  was 
well-nigh  deserted  because  of  the  bull-fight,  and 
therefore  there  would  be  few  witnesses  of  what 
might  presently  occur.  In  any  contingency,  the 
scene  of  the  battle  must  be  immediately  trans 
ferred  to  the  open  street. 

To  this  end  I  grabbed  the  Chileno's  green 
poncho,  slapped  him  on  the  head  with  it,  to 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF    AND    THE    PERSONAGE.     109 

attract  his  attention,  and  then  turned  and  ran 
like  a  gallied  whale. 

The  Personage  dashed  after  me,  Rudder 
Simpson  dashed  after  the  Personage,  and  the 
round-shouldered  alley-owner  dashed  after  Rudder 
Simpson.  I  led  my  excited  followers  a  swift  chase 
across  the  patio,  plunged  headlong  through  the 
posado  and  brought  up  in  the  street.  Once  there 
I  dropped  the  poncho,  and  just  as  I  did  so,  the 
agile  Simpson  landed  a  merciless  right-swing  on 
the  Chileno's  starboard  ear. 

Neither  the  stoop-shouldered  proprietor  nor  the 
eighteen-year-old  cabin-boy  cared  to  get  mixed  up 
in  the  row,  so  we  two  stood  well  back  from  the 
mill.  We  were  not  alone,  however,  for  the  battle 
was  no  more  than  joined  when  up  came  a  dozen 
sailors  from  various  ships  in  the  harbor. 

"  I  sy,"  bawled  a  ruddy  Cockney,  "  'ere's  a 
bloody  row  the  syme  as  a  bloody  bull-fight! 
Wat's  on?" 

"  'It  'im,  Yank,  'it  'im  bloomin'  'ard  !  " 

"Avast !  "  cried  a  Nantucket  whaleman.  "His 
chimney's  afire !  He's  spoutin'  blood !  It's  his 
flurry  !  " 

"No,  'taint;  he's  only  a  little  groggy.  There, 
my  hearties,  bring  the  claret  —  give  away, 
boys!" 


110     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND    THE    PERSONAGE. 

"  That's  right,  Jack,  you're  a  good  'un,  'eart 
an'  'and !  " 

"  Watch  'im,  watch  'im  !      There,  good  un  !  " 

By  this  time  the  Personage  had  lost  his  silk 
sash,  his  shirt  was  torn  open  from  shoulder  to  belt, 
and  his  hairless  head  was,  as  Dr.  Doyle  would  say, 
a  study  in  scarlet.  Eudder,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  still  in  prime  condition.  He  was  badly  out  of 
wind  and  he  had  a  lump  under  his  left  eye  like  a 
pigeon's  egg,  but  there  was  unlimited  fight  in  that 
huge,  lanky  frame  of  his.  He  made  a  furious  lead 
at  his  foe.  The  two  men  grappled  and  clinched. 
The  Spaniard  was  forced  to  the  wall. 

"  Owe  it  to  him,  Yank  !  " 

"  Look  sharp,  Yank  ;  'e'll  spur." 

And  spur  he  did.  That  was  what  he  had  been 
waiting  for.  He  jabbed  the  sharp  steel  rowel 
deep  into  the  calf  of  Rudder  Simpson's  leg  and 
ground  it  to  and  fro  in  the  wound. 

"  Down  killick  !  " 

"  Kill  the  Dago  !  " 

In  Rudder's  effort  to  escape  the  spur  he  had 
lost  his  balance,  and  the  two  desperate  men  fell 
to  the  earth  together. 

"  Bully  for  you !  " 

"  Kill  'im,  Yank  !  " 

"  Don't  get  gallied  !  " 


SIMPSON,   MYSELF  AND  THE   PERSONAGE.     Ill 

But  best  he  could  do,  Eudder  was  forced  under. 

Then  I  heard  a  half-smothered  cry  :  "  Help  — 
quick  —  more  beef!"  The  Spaniard  was  biting 
Rudder  Simpson's  nose  ! ! 

I  sprang  to  the  rescue.  As  I  did  so,  a  dozen 
Chilenos  came  up  out  of  the  ground.  A  dozen 
more  dropped  down  from  the  sky.  I  battered  the 
Spaniard  with  both  fists  till  I  thought  I  had  killed 
him,  and  then  — 

Two  seconds  later  it  was  several  hours  after 
ward. 

I  opened  my  eyes  —  or  rather,  my  eye,  for  one 
of  them  somehow  stayed  shut  —  and  observed 
important  changes  in  my  surroundings.  Four 
walls  had  closed  around  me.  A  low  couch  had 
worked  its  way  in  under  my  back.  A  heavy- 
raftered  roof  unaccountably  met  my  gaze.  In 
other  words,  I  had  been  carried  into  a  house  and 
rescued  from  the  blood-thirsty  Chilenos. 

It  was  night. 

I  took  in  the  situation  only  by  degrees.  A  dark- 
eyed  woman  was  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the  couch. 
She  was  brightly  clad,  and  she  had  a  brilliant 
shawl  thrown  over  her  shoulders.  Her  hair  hung 
in  two  heavy,  dark  braids.  The  woman  gazed 
across  the  room.  Her  attention  was  fixed  upon 
someone  speaking.  That  someone  knelt  before 


112      SIMPSON,    MYSELF    AND    THE    PERSONAGE. 

an  image  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  and  was  praying 
aloud  to  the  holy  Mother  of  God  ? 

I  had  never  heard  such  pathos  in  a  woman's 
voice.  It  was  the  agony  of  unanswered  prayer. 

It  was  a  sweet  voice.  The  woman  was  very 
young. 

I  could  not  understand  what  she  said,  but  I 
know  she  was  entreating  the  Maid  of  Galilee  to 
spare  my  life.  I  could  not  bear  to  see  the  woman 
so  sad ;  so  I  moved  gently  on  the  couch. 

"  Oh,  Inez !  "  cried  the  mother. 

The  girl  sprang  from  her  knees.  The  two 
women  embraced  each  other  and  bent  over  me. 
Their  brown  eyes  shown  with  exultant  joy  ;  their 
hair  brushed  my  face. 

I  felt  like  a  person  suddenly  required  to  make 
a  speech.  I  had  been  saved  —  saved  from  the 
fury  of  a  blood-thirsty  mob  ;  these  women  had 
saved  me  —  I  owed  my  life  to  them  !  Oh,  how 
could  I  thank  them  enough  ?  I  tried  to  frame 
some  sort  of  expression  for  my  gratitude;  but 
then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  a  capital 
excuse  for  saying  absolutely  nothing  at  all.  I 
knew  not  a  single  word  of  Spanish. 

What  an  agreeable  relief ! 

But  had  I  attempted  even  the  feeblest  sentence, 
it  would  inevitably  have  been  interrupted,  for  just 


JUNK   COMING   IN   AT   WAISTV 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF    AND    THE    PERSONAGE.     113 

then  there  was  a  deafening  uproar  in  the  street. 
I  could  hear  loud  cries.  The  words  were  Spanish. 
I  could  nevertheless  understand  one  word,  Ameri 
cano,  and  I  realized  that  I  was  the  person  so 
earnestly  held  in  request. 

Inez  rushed  to  the  windows  to  make  sure  that 
the  shutters  were  securely  barred.  As  she  did  so, 
she  left  a  pretty  picture  in  my  memory  —  her 
white  arms  outstretched,  her  head  thrown  back, 
her  hair  luxuriant  and  beautiful.  She  was  my 
guardian  angel. 

I  lifted  my  head  to  watch  her,  but  the  effort 
made  me  dizzy,  and  I  swooned  again. 

I  think  it  must  have  been  only  a  few  minutes 
before  I  was  myself  once  more,  but  when  I  next 
realized  the  possible  gravity  of  the  situation,  the 
mob  had  gone  and  we  were  for  the  moment  safe. 
Inez  sat  by  my  side,  stroking  my  hand  and  look 
ing  distractingly  lovely.  I  noticed  the  pungent 
odor  of  some  foreign  drug.  On  the  table  was  an 
open  flask. 

But  now  there  came  a  fresh  assault  upon  the 
street  door.  Again  I  heard  cries. 

Chilenos  ?  No,  the  rabble  had  gone  their  way. 
Vigilantes  ?  No,  those  mounted  night  patrolmen 
were  apparently  quite  indifferent  to  the  fact  of 
my  existence.  The  voices  were  familiar  voices, 
and  the  words  were  English. 


114     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE   PERSONAGE. 

"  Hi  there,  boy !  You  in  there,  you  rascal  ? 
Come,  turn  to !  None  o'  your  sogering !  Do 
you  hear  the  news  ?  Tumble  up,  lively  /  "  It 
was  the  old  man  ! 

I  shouted  back,  "  Spanish  folks  in  here.  Don't 
known  English.  Can't  tell  'em  to  open  the 
door !  " 

"  Open  it  yourself,  then,  you  leatherhead !  " 
That  was  unmistakably  the  mate's  voice. 

Now  my  preservers,  hearing  English  spoken 
and  realizing  that  the  men  on  the  doorstep  must 
be  acquaintances  of  mine,  or  at  all  events  no 
enemies,  else  I  should  have  been  afraid  to  answer, 
opened  the  door. 

In  strode  the  two  burly  men.  The  captain 
never  looked  so  big,  the  mate  was  never  so  surly. 

"Well,"  the  old  man  observed  in  a  tone  of 
infinite  disgust,  "  here  you  are  with  your  head 
broke !  " 

My  head  was  not  exactly  "  broke,"  though  it 
was  by  no  means  attractively  embellished  by  my 
recent  battle  with  the  Personage.  I  had  a  gash 
about  an  inch  long  over  my  left  eye,  and  that 
luckless  optic  was  completely  closed  by  the  black 
ened  swelling. 

The  old  man  roared  at  me  with  such  thunderous 
ferocity  that  Inez  was  frightened.  She  seemed  to 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE   PERSONAGE.     115 

think  my  destruction  was  now  a  matter  of  grim 
certainty.  She  threw  herself  upon  her  knees 
between  the  old  man  and  his  prey.  Her  mother 
at  the  same  time  seized  the  mate  by  the  collar. 
It  was  like  a  scene  in  a  melodrama! 

I  found  the  gust  of  cool  night  air  from  the  open 
door  very  refreshing.  There  was  a  certain  ener 
gizing  property  also  in  the  old  man's  harsh  voice. 
I  rose  from  the  couch.  I  felt  so  much  better  that 
I  thought  I  could  walk  alone.  I  tried — yes,  I  could. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  kiss  Inez  (the  dear 
girl!);  but  it  occurred  to  me  she  would  hardly  like 
to  be  kissed  by  a  chap  with  a  broken  head  and  a 
game  eye.  I  found  it  somewhat  easier  to  refrain 
from  kissing  her  mother.  I  had  not  the  slightest 
temptation  to  kiss  the  old  man. 

As  it  was,  I  bowed,  and  waved  my  hand  in  a 
futile  sort  of  pantomime,  and  wished  with  all  my 
heart  I  could  put  my  farewell  into  words,  for  then 
I  should  have  made  Inez  promise  to  write  often. 
I  was  pitiably  conscious  of  figuring  in  an  awkward 
and  inglorious  attempt  at  sentiment.  It  was  as 
absurd  as  that  place  in  Fanny  Burney's  novel 
where  it  says,  "  They  both  wept,  curtseyed  and 
withdrew." 

Very  little  was  said  about  the  affair,  however, 
as  we  three  Americanos  returned  to  the  Swift. 


116     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND    THE    PERSONAGE. 

Of  course  I  was  wriggling  with  curiosity  to  know 
what  in  creation  had  become  of  Rudder  Simpson 
and  the  Personage.  I  wanted  to  know,  too,  what 
had  been  the  result  of  the  fight  and  the  subse 
quent  riot.  I  suppose  it  was  part  of  the  old 
man's  vengeful  design  to  keep  me  in  ignorance 
of  the  facts. 

Next  day,  as  I  rose  from  my  bunk,  I  was  seized 
with  a  sudden  fit  of  dizziness  —  from  loss  of  blood, 
the  old  man  said  —  and  in  consequence  I  was 
ordered  to  remain  in  bed  all  day. 

I  have  always  supposed  that  that  was  done  in 
malice.  The  old  man  babied  me  there  in  port  as 
you  never  saw  him  baby  me  at  sea. 

I  spent  that  day  imagining  all  possible  and 
impossible  outcomes  of  the  affray.  I  sent  Rudder 
to  jail,  had  him  tried  for  bloody  murder  and  shot 
like  a  dog.  I  visited  a  similiar  fate  upon  the  Per 
sonage.  I  even  congratulated  myself  that  it  had 
not  been  my  own  lot  to  leave  my  bones  in  the 
Potter's  Field  at  Talcahuano.  Over  and  over  I 
turned  the  story  till  it  became  a  sort  of  waking 
nightmare,  growing  constantly  more  and  more 
hideous.  I  have  heard  of  the  fashionable  woman 
who  said  she  couldn't  go  to  Europe  because  she  was 
reading  seventeen  serial  stories.  My  own  interest 
in  this  Chileno  romance  was  hardly  less  keen. 


SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE.      117 

The  day  passed  uneventfully,  but  late  that 
evening  a  shout  went  ringing  through  the  ship, 
calling  all  hands.  All  hands !  And  in  port ! 
what  possible  emergency  could  occasion  such  an 
appeal  to  force  as  that  ? 

I  leaped  from  my  bunk,  grabbed  hastily  for 
boots  and  trousers,  pulled  them  on  in  a  jiffy,  and 
dashed  up  the  cabin  stairs.  It  was  bright  as  day 
only  it  was  a  horrible,  yellow-red  light.  All  was 
confusion  on  deck.  Orders  were  given  in  quick 
succession.  All  hands  were  needed  to  save  the 
ship.  I  sprang  up  the  ratlines  with  the  rest.  I 
heard  a  voice  say,  "  She's  the  Ganges,  shipmates, 
the  Ganges,  poor  barky  !  "  He  was  right.  Off 
to  windward  lay  the  handsome,  well-found,  full- 
rigged  ship  Ganges  of  Fall  Kiver,  swathed  in  a 
shroud  of  flames. 

In  my  excitement  I  obeyed  orders  automati 
cally,  not  stopping  to  consider  the  meaning  of 
the  words  I  acted  upon.  Somehow  I  had  got 
the  hollow  of  my  feet  set  upon  the  foot-rope  and 
my  arms  flung  over  the  particular  yard  assigned 
me  as  my  post  of  honor.  I  could  see  the  Ganges 
ablaze  from  stem  to  waist.  A  man  at  my  right 
was  doing  precisely  what  I  was  doing,  waiting  for 
a  bucket  to  be  passed  to  him.  The  man  had  a 
white  nose.  It  was  covered  with  sticking  plaster. 


118     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE. 

"  Why,  Rudder,"  I  exclaimed,  "I  didn't  know 
you  were  alive  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  imperturbable  Simpson. 
"  Nose  in  a  sling,  but  still  seaworthy.  Rigged  up 
jury-nose  —  see  ?  " 

The  fire  burst  through  the  Ganges'  main-hatch, 
sending  up  a  fountain  of  rushing,  soaring,  spread 
ing,  fluttering  red  sparks.  They  scattered  out 
over  the  sky.  They  fell  in  hot  showers  upon  a 
score  of  anchored  ships.  Every  endangered  ves 
sel  had  men  aloft. 

Buckets  were  passed  from  tarry  hand  to  tarry 
hand.  We  drenched  the  masts  and  yards  and 
sails  and  rigging. 

"  Why  in  the  name  o'  sea-sense,  don't  somebody 
scuttle  the  old  hooker  ?" 

« 'Praia  to." 

"  Don't  wonder  ;  no  fun  to  go  below  in  a  blazin' 
butter-box  —  resky,  blamed  resky.  But  why  in 

blazes  don't Oh,  look,  boy,  look  !  clap  yer 

for'ard  lights  on  that —  they  done  it  a' ready  !  " 

So  they  had.  The  old  ballahoo  settled  away, 
like  a  spaded  shark,  and  went  hissing  to  the 
bottom,  only  her  blazing  masts  still  stuck  out  of 
the  water. 

"  Good,"  said  Rudder,  "  bully  for  every  man 
Jack  of  'em  !  " 


119 


Those  various  men  Jacks  were  at  that  time 
afloat  in  their  whale-boats,  and  now  they  made  for 
a  ship  near  by.  The  light  had  nearly  faded  away, 
but  we  could  still  see  them.  In  fact,  we  could 
see  the  whole  Bay  of  Conception,  and  the  "  long, 
black  land  "  six  miles  away  across  the  harbor. 

"Well,"  said  Rudder,  "  s'pose  the  old  man'll 
keep  us  a-soakin?  this  here  riggin'  a  good  haour 
more,  blast  'im !  " 

"Then,  Rudder,"  said  I,  "tell  me  how  that 
fight  came  out.  I  don't  know  a  thing  that  hap 
pened  after  I  was  hit." 

"  Well,"  said  Rudder,  "  'tain't  no  great  twister. 
Chilenos  an'  mobs  an'  Dago  police,  an'  the  steward 
o'  that  there  Ganges,  that's  jest  naow  a-bunkin' 
in  Granny's  wash-tub  there,  stuck  in  his  blazin' 
innards  an'  took  to  the  haw-spittle,  an'  not  a 
blamed  stitch  o'  liberty  for  them  sweet,  lob-lolly 
boys  sence  !  Them's  the  facts,  boy." 

"And  what  do  you  think  now  of  that  big 
Chileno  Personage  —  duke,  baron,  earl  —  some 
such  nabob  ?  " 

"Not  by  a  jugfull !  That  there  rainbow  dandy, 
so  says  Slush  Dooley  (an'  he's  knocked  araoun' 
Talky-wanno  nigh  onto  a  twelve-month),  that 
there  rainbow  dandy,  says  he,  why,  he's  just  a 
darned  old  farmer.  Them  togs  is  what  they  wear 


120     SIMPSON,    MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE. 

up-country.  Blow  all  their  cash  on  their  jeans  ! 
An'  I  tell  you,  boy,  they  ain't  no  true  piosity  in 
splicin'  elbows  with  Dago  strangers  —  not  of  a 
Sunday,  no,  sir  —  not  if  the  court  knows  herself, 
an'  (feeling  of  his  plastered  nose,  and  glancing 
mournfully  at  my  bandaged  head  and  blackened 
eye)  she  thinks  she  do  !  " 

We  finally  bade  adieu  to  the  beautiful  islands 
of  the  South  Pacific  ocean,  and  began  our  home 
ward  voyage.  We  had  a  fair  passage  to  the  Cape, 
but  as  we  neared  that  point  of  storms  and  gales, 
the  days  grew  shorter  and  the  weather  more 
boisterous.  When  we  ran  to  the  eastward,  we 
encountered  heavy  gales,  with  a  tremendous  sea 
running.  Although  the  gales  were  a  fair  wind 
for  us,  the  old  man  did  not  run  nights,  as  the  ship 
was  deeply  laden  with  oil,  and  he  was  afraid  of 
losing  our  boats  or  having  our  decks  swept  by  the 
sea  washing  over  us.  We  hove  to  several  nights, 
and  on  one  of  these  nights  we  lost  a  man  over 
board.  Thanks  to  the  tireless  exertions  of  the 
crew,  he  was  saved  from  a  watery  grave.  He 
had  been  sent  aloft  to  loose  the  fore-top-sail 
during  the  night  and  was  stepping  from  the  top 
sail  yard  to  the  rigging,  when  the  ship  fetched  a 
heavy  roll  to  the  windward.  He  missed  his  hold 
and  fell  into  the  sea  ;  but  as  he  was  to  windward, 


HOISTING   ON    LOWEK   JAW. 


SIMPSON,   MYSELF   AND   THE    PERSONAGE.     121 

the  sea  washed  him  up  to  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
The  night  was  very  clear  and  the  moon  was  full, 
so  we  could  see  the  huge  waves  wash  him  up  the 
ship's  side  and  the  receding  wave,  or  undertow, 
take  him  away  -  sometimes  fifty  feet  away.  It 
would  have  been  folly  to  attempt  to  lower  a  boat 
at  that  time.  There  was,  however,  only  one  other 
thing  to  do,  and  that  we  did.  The  men  tied  ropes 
around  their  bodies  and  hung  over  the  side  to 
grasp  him  if  possible.  After  a  while  a  sailor 
caught  him  by  his  foot,  but  his  boot  came  off  and 
we  were  almost  ready  to  give  him  up  as  lost.  Yet 
in  a  short  time  he  was  seen  again,  and  was  thrown 
to  the  side.  Jus\,  at  that  moment  one  of  our  men 
seized  him  by  the  arm,  and  with  help  got  him  on 
board.  The  poo:  fellow  was  nearly  done  for, 
but  by  rubbing  him,  and  wrapping  him  in  warm 
blankets,  and  giving  him  hot  drinks,  we  saved 
him.  I  have  hinted  at  this  story  before.  This 
was  the  man  Townsend  who  tried  to  desert  us  at 
the  Navigator  Islands. 


WHALE-LAND  AND  ITS 
CUSTOMS. 

THERE  are  many  kinds  of  whales,  and  as  much 
aristocracy  among  them  as  in  European  society. 
The  king  among  them,  and,  indeed,  of  all  the 
sea's  inhabitants,  is  the  Greenland,  or  right  whale. 
This  sovereign  is  sometimes  seen  on  the  coast  of 
Britain,  and  occasionally  in  even  more  southern 
latitudes,  but  its  favorite  and  most  occupied 
quarters  are  the  northern  seas,  chiefly  in  the 
Arctic  regions. 

Of  its  grotesque  and  unsymmetrical  body; 
which  is  often  from  sixtv  to  seventy  feet  long, 
the  head  occupies  from  H  third  to  a  fourth  of 
the  entire  length,  the  right  side  of  the  skull  being 
larger  than  the  left.  It  has  two  small  fins,  or 
flippers,  but  its  progress  is  made  by  means  of 
the  tail,  which  is  five  or  six  feet  long  and 
twenty  feet  wide.  The  dirty  looking,  almost 
entirely  black,  skin  is  naked  with  the  exception 
of  a  few  bristles  about  the  jaws,  its  surface 
being  moistened  by  an  oily  fluid.  The  lower 
surface  of  the  true  skin  extends  into  a  thick 
layer  of  blubber  or  fac,  which  is  from  a  foot 
to  two  feet  in  thickness  This  blubber  fortifies 


WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS.  123 

the  animal  against  cold,  and,  by  rendering  the 
body  much  lighter,  helps  to  resist  the  pressure 
of  the  water  in  great  depths.  The  eyes,  about 
the  size  of  those  of  an  ox,  are  situated  on  the 
side  of  the  head,  and  have  very  acute  sight. 
The  spout-holes  of  the  right  whale  are  from 
eight  to  twelve  inches  long  and  comparatively 
narrow,  and  are  situated  on  the  most  elevated 
part  of  the  head.  The  powerful  tail  can  shiver 
with  one  blow  a  large  boat  to  splinters,  or  toss 
it  and  its  crew  a  long  distance  into  the  air. 
The  plates  of  baleen,  or  whalebone,  suspended 
from  the  roof  of  the  mouth  number  three  to 
four  hundred  on  each  side.  The  base  of  each 
plate  is  embedded  in  the  membrane  that  covers 
the  palate,  the  edge  forming  a  loose  fringe  com 
posed  of  pliant  bristles. 

The  Rorqual  is  of  the  same  family  as  the 
Greenland  whale,  but  a  sort  of  poor  relation, 
as  it  is  despised  and  rejected  by  whalers  unless 
it  is  the  only  prey  they  can  seize  upon.  He 
is  larger  than  the  Greenland  whale,  sometimes 
measuring  a  hundred  feet,  and  is  a  sort  of  slaty 
gray  and  whitish  beneath.  Like  his  haughty 
relatives  he  is  found  for  the  most  part  in  Arctic 
seas.  He  feeds  on  large  prey,  his  throat  being 
much  more  capacious  than  that  of  the  right  whale. 


124  WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS. 

If  the  Greenland  whale  is  king  of  the  deep, 
the  sperm  whale  is  prince.  This  whale  is  black, 
and  is  found  in  nearly  all  seas,  but  most 
frequently  in  southern  hemspheres.  What  sailors 
call  the  "bull  whale,"  an  ancient  male,  has  a 
large  gray  spot  on  the  front  of  the  head.  The 
throat  is  large  enough  to  admit  the  body  of  a 
man.  The  mouth  has  no  baleen.  The  upper 
jaw  is  without  teeth;  the  lower  jaw  having 
twenty-five  or  thirty  on  either  side,  according 
to  the  age  of  the  animal,  which  are  conical  and 
slightly  recurved,  deeply  embedded  in  the  gum, 
from  which  they  reach  for  about  two  inches. 
The  lower  jaw  is  extremely  narrow,  the  teeth 
fitting  into  cavities  in  the  upper  jaw.  These 
teeth  weigh  from  one  to  three  pounds  each. 
This  whale  has  a  single  spout  or  blow-hole 
situated  near  the  front  of  the  head.  The 
enormous  head  of  the  sperm  whale  is  mostly 
occupied  by  a  cavity  in  front  of  and  above  the 
skull,  called  by  whalers  "  the  case,"  which  some 
times  holds  as  many  as  fifteen  barrels  of 
spermaceti.  This  substance  hardens  on  cooling. 
The  oil  with  which  it  is  mixed  in  the  case  is 
separated  from  it  by  drawing  and  squeezing,  and 
the  yellow  unctuous  spermaceti  becomes  the 
beautiful,  pearly-white,  flaky  substance  of  crys- 


WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS.  125 

taline  purity  which  we  know.  This  oil  gives  to 
the  fore  part  of  the  whale's  body  a  lightness 
which  enables  the  animal  to  float  and  rest. 

The  "junk,"  a  thick,  elastic  mass  which 
occupies  the  head  under  the  case,  also  yields  a 
considerable  quantity  of  sperm  oil.  The  sub 
stance  called  ambergris,  which  is  used  in  the 
most  expensive  perfumery,  and  in  some  Catholic 
and  Mohammedan  churches  as  incense,  is  found 
in  the  intestines  of  diseased  sperm  whales,  and  is 
supposed  to  be  generated  by  indigestion.  It  is 
extremely  rare,  and  often  commands  the  astound 
ing  price  of  three  hundred  dollars  a  pound. 

There  are  many  other  kinds  of  whales,  but  they 
are  for  the  most  part  imperfectly  classified,  and 
of  little  interest  save  to  naturalists. 

The  tongue  of  a  right  whale  is  a  soft,  thick 
mass,  and  has  been  known  to  yield  twenty-five 
barrels  of  oil.  Whale  flesh  is  firm,  coarse,  and 
red  in  color. 

It  has  been  calculated  from  the  transverse  lines 
on  the  plates  of  baleen,  each  line  being  supposed 
to  denote  an  annual  check  of  growth,  that  whales 
attain  to  the  age  of  eight  or  nine  hundred  years, 
but  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  this  assumption 
is  well  grounded. 

The  infant  whale  is  from  eight  to  twelve  feet 
long,  and  can  swim  the  moment  it  is  born.  The 


126  WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS. 

mother  shows  every  mark  of  fondness  for  her 
offspring,  and  the  little  one,  in  itself  of  slight 
value,  is  sometimes  harpooned  and  drawn  along 
side  a  boat  that  the  mother  may  be  induced  to 
follow.  Suckling  is  done  at  the  surface,  mother 
and  baby  rolling  from  side  to  side  that  each 
may  breathe  in  turn. 

There  is  no  essential  difference  in  the  manner 
in  which  the  most  highly  civilized  people  and 
the  rudest  tribes  prosecute  whale  fishery.  Both 
approach  the  animal  in  boats,  and  attack  it  by 
harpoons  to  which  lines  are  affixed,  following  up 
and  repeating  the  attack  until  the  strength  of 
the  whale  is  exhausted  and  it  is  obliged  to 
succumb. 

The  most  simple  harpoon  used  in  whale  fishery 
is  a  spear  about  three  feet  long,  with  a  flattened 
point,  which  has  sharp  edges  and  two  large 
flattened  barbs.  These  harpoons  are  attached 
to  long  lines. 

Many  improvements  have  been  made  in  whale 
fishery  tools.  As  much  depends  upon  the  blade- 
like  edges  of  the  harpoon's  barbs  as  their  power 
to  hold  when  in.  Many  ingenious  devices  of 
movable  barbs  have  been  contrived  which  close 
on  the  shaft  of  the  instrument  when  entering  the 
animal's  side,  and  open  outward  as  soon  as  there 


WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS.  127 

is  any  strain  on  the  shaft.  Another  modern 
device  is  the  gun  harpoon,  a  short  bar  of  iron 
with  a  barb  at  the  end,  and  a  ring  with  a 
chain  for  attachment  to  the  line.  This  is  fired 
from  a  gun  in  the  hands  of  the  officer.  A  very 
effective  expedient  was  suggested  by  the  eminent 
toxicologist,  Sir  K.  Christison,  of  Edinburgh 
University.  By  this  device  glass  tubes  con 
taining  prussic  acid  are  so  placed  in  the  shafts 
of  the  harpoon  that  the  instant  the  line  is  pulled 
tight  they  are  broken,  the  poison  occasioning 
instant  death.  Another  mode  of  employing 
prussic  acid  is  to  enclose  a  glass  tube  containing 
it  in  a  hollow  bullet  about  four  inches  long, 
which  is  fired  from  a  rifle  made  for  the  purpose, 
the  bullet  also  containing  an  explosive  connected 
with  a  fuse  which  is  kindled  as  the  rifle  is  fired, 
so  that  the  bullet  bursts  immediately  after 
entering  the  body  of  the  whale,  and  spreads  its 
deadly  contents  through  the  flesh.  Strychnia  is 
sometimes  used  instead  of  prussic  acid  with 
similar  results.  A  whale  killed  by  these  methods 
only  disappears  for  about  five  minutes,  then 
comes  to  the  surface  and  instantly  dies.  But 
rapid  and  effective  as  are  these  last-named 
methods,  their  use  is  strongly  disliked  by  whalers, 
who  have  an  unconquerable  aversion  to  handling 


128  WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS. 

the  carcass  of  an  animal  which  has  been  killed 
by  such  deadly  poisons,  and  they  a^e  now  wholly 
discontinued. 

Whaling  is  a  very  ancient  industry,  as  in  the 
ninth  century  the  Norwegians  sent  their  quaintly- 
fashioned  boats  to  Greenland  in  search  of  them. 

Other  early  maritime  nations  showed  great 
spirit  in  whale  fishery,  but  so  vigorously  did  the 
Dutch  pursue  the  industry,  that  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century  they  furnished 
nearly  all  Europe  with  oil. 

The  New  England  colonies  entered  upon  the 
enterprise  at  a  very  early  date ;  at  first  by 
simply  going  out  in  boats  on  their  own  shores. 
When  in  the  eighteenth  century  these  shores 
had  become  deserted  by  whales,  ships  were  fitted 
out  for  the  northern  seas,  New  Bedford  becoming 
the  most  important  whaling  port  ID  the  world. 

But  this  industry  suffered  during  the  Revolu 
tion,  the  War  of  1812,  the  Civil  War,  and  the 
disasters  of  the  sea,  for  thirty-four  vessels  from 
New  Bedford  were  wrecked  at  one  time  in  the 
north  Pacific.  But  it  was  ruined  at  last  by  the 
substitution  of  petroleum  for  whale  oil.  The 
ship  owners  had  to  look  for  other  ways  of  using 
their  great  vessels.  One  of  these  was  quite 
unique.  In  the  war  of  1861,  the  United  States 


MINCING    THE    "BLUBBER". 


WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS.  129 

Government,  wishing  to  block  the  ports  of 
Savannah  and  Charleston  and  several  less  impor 
tant  entries  to  southern  harbors,  decided  upon 
the  novel  plan  of  sinking  a  large  number  of 
abandoned,  stone-laden  vessels  in  these  ports. 
The  whaler,  because  of  its  peculiar  model,  was 
especially  adapted  to  this  purpose,  and  twenty- 
four  of  the  forty-five  crafts  which  formed  the 
Stone  Fleet  were  bought  and  refitted  at  New 
Bedford.  Fifty  cents  a  ton  was  offered  for 
stone,  and  many  a  wall  was  torn  down,  and  many 
a  cobblestone  heap  and  roadside  accumulation 
levelled  to  furnish  forth  the  necessary  weightings. 

The  whalers  were  from  three  hundred  to  four 
hundred  tons  burthen,  and  were  always  built  of 
the  best  material.  A  fair  price  for  such  a  ship 
was  about  $22,000,  and  her  three  years'  outfit 
cost  about  $20.000  more.  Besides  all  the  neces 
sary  provisions  for  officers  and  men,  there  were 
added  casks  for  the  oil,  spare  sails,  cordage, 
and  boats. 

Such  a  vessel  carried  about  thirty-two  men. 

America  is  at  present  more  actively  engaged 
in  whale  fishery  than  any  other  country,  San 
Francisco  being  one  of  its  most  important  ports. 
The  whale  is  now  sought  almost  exclusively  for 
the  bone,  for  which  no  adequate  substitute  has 


130  WHALE-LAND    AND    ITS    CUSTOMS. 

been  discovered,  and  which,  owing  to  its  growing 
scarcity,  commands  from  three  to  six  dollars  a 
pound. 


THE  FROZEN  NORTH. 

BUT  the  Captain's  stories  were  not  always  of 
the  sunny  South,  with  its  islands  covered  with 
graceful  palms  and  luxuriant  verdure,  and  teem 
ing  with  life.  One  tale  was  of  the  terrible  frozen 
North,  which  to  know  is  almost  like  death,  so 
fearful  is  its  breath,  and  so  fatal  the  clutch  of 
its  awful  fingers. 

For  there  the  sailors  see  ice  everywhere, — 
clinging  to  the  spars,  and  jamming  with  tremendous 
solidity  about  the  sides  of  the  vessels,  holding 
them  with  the  grip  of  death  in  this  land  of 
desolation. 

The  ships  of  which  the  Captain  told  this  story 
were  so  staunch  and  goodly  and  gracefully  named 
withal.  Out  from  the  Golden  Gate,  from  New 
London's  harbor,  from  the  wharf  at  New  Bedford, 
from  the  port  of  Boston,  and  the  shores  of  far 
Hawaii  had  sailed  the  Onward,  the  Florence,  the 
Clara  Bell,  the  Acors  Barnes,  the  Josephine,  the 
Camilla,  the  St.  George,  the  Mount  Wollaston, 
the  Cornelius  Howland,  the  James  Allen,  the 
Java,  the  Rainbow,  the  Arctic,  the  Desmond, 
and  the  Three  Brothers.  Whalers  all,  ten  from 
New  Bedford,  manned  by  stalwart,  brave-hearted 


132  THE    FROZEN    NORTH. 

fellows,  eager  for  adventure,  ripe  for  risks, 
alert  and  hardy,  not  all  speaking  one  language, 
but  all  stimulated  by  the  one  hope  of  a  pros 
perous  voyage,  and  rich  remuneration  as  its 
results. 

It  was  in  1876,  after  a  successful  cruise  of 
seven  months,  the  Arctic  was  crushed  in  the  ice 
July  7th,  off  Sea  Horse  Island,  eighteen  miles 
from  the  Bend,  her  crew  being  distributed  among 
the  other  vessels.  On  August  1st  the  fleet  reached 
Point  Barrows,  where  it  became  completely 
hemmed  in  by  ice.  The  Florence  saved  herself 
by  managing  to  keep  in  the  rear  of  a  grounded 
iceberg,  and  the  Rainbow  and  Three  Brothers 
reached  a  point  of  safety  at  Point  Barrows.  The 
rudder  of  the  Clara  Bell  becoming  broken,  she 
drifted  ashore,  and  was  jammed  into  the  ice, 
while  the  other  vessels  were  driven  northward 
by  the  floating  ice,  struggling  in  vain  to  reach 
open  water.  Early  in  September,  they  found 
themselves  completely  ice-bound  off  Smith's  Bay, 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  from  land,  and  with  no 
prospect  of  release.  Their  only  hope  seemed 
to  lie  in  the  abandonment  of  the  vessels;  a 
course  which  was  finally  agreed  upon. 

Tents  made  from  the  sails,  rations  of  bread 
and  meat  for  twenty-five  days,  with  a  change  of 


THE    FROZEN   NORTH.  133 

clothing  and  a  blanket  for  each  man,  were  stored 
in  the  boats,  which  were  to  be  dragged  over  the 
ice.  It  was  hoped  that  enough  open  water  might 
be  found  under  the  ground  ice  to  float  the  boats 
southward  till  the  two  ships,  supposed  to  be 
outside  the  ice  pack,  could  be  found.  The  men 
carried  the  baggage  ahead  for  half  a  mile,  then 
leaving  it,  returned  to  drag  the  boats  forward. 
The  exceedingly  rough  ice  was  in  many  places 
brittle,  and  some  of  the  men  fell  through  it,  thus 
becoming  drenched,  and  suffering  horribly  with 
cold.  The  company  lay  down  at  night  worn, 
spent,  famished  with  cold,  only  four  miles  from 
its  starting  point. 

The  next  morning  a  blinding  northeast  snow 
storm  was  raging,  and  a  number  of  the  wayfarers, 
sick,  lame,  and  discouraged,  turned  back  to 
the  ships. 

On  September  6th,  the  intrepid  wanderers 
reached  open  water,  in  which  they  floated  their 
boats  towards  the  land.  On  the  9th  they  sighted 
the  Rainbow  and  Three  Brothers  at  Point 
Barrows,  and  reached  them  before  night.  These 
vessels  were  in  the  vise-like  clutches  of  the  ice, 
and  could  not  move.  After  a  consultation 
between  their  crews  and  the  newcomers,  it  was 
decided  that  the  whole  company  should  start 


134  THE    FROZEN    NORTH. 

towards  the  open  sea,  probably  a  hundred  and 
thirty  miles  away,  dragging  the  boats  on  sleds 
across  the  ice.  The  sleds  were  made  and  the 
journey  begun.  At  Cape  Smith  the  Florence 
was  found,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  almost 
hopeless  journey  towards  the  open  sea  should  be 
abandoned,  and  that  they  all  should  winter  on  the 
Florence  at  Cape  Barrows.  The  boats  were 
prepared  for  whaling,  whale  meat  being  the  only 
obtainable  food. 

On  September  13th,  there  swept  out  from  the 
east  a  wind,  which  must  have  seemed  to  the 
beleagured  ones  the  very  breath  of  God,  soft, 
warm  and  continuous,  before  which  the  ice  broke 
and  parted  and  floated  away ;  and  the  released 
Florence  set  her  joyful  sails,  and  turned  her  prow 
in  the  direction  of  a  more  genial  clime. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  18th,  the  Rainbow 
and  the  Three  Brothers  joined  the  Florence, 
bringing  the  crew  of  the  Clara  Bell,  which  had 
been  frozen  into  the  ice.  The  ships  appointed 
a  rendezvous  at  St.  Lawrence  Bay,  where  they 
would  take  water.  All  arrived  on  the  23rd,  and 
there  parted  ways,  the  Florence  heading  for  San 
Francisco,  where  she  arrived  later,  the  others 
departing  for  Honolulu. 

Of  those  who  remained  upon  and  returned  to 
the  vessels,  nothing  was  ever  heard.  They  were 


THE    FROZEN   NORTH.  135 

probably  carried  to  the  northeast  by  the  immense 
ice  packs,  which  closed  them  round  for  ten  miles, 
and  there  perished. 

The  loss  of  property  through  this  fleet  was 
estimated  at  four  hundred  and  forty-two  thousand 
dollars. 

It  is,  of  course,  first  of  human  life  and  human 
suffering  that  one  thinks  in  connection  with  such 
disasters  as  this,  but  there  is  something  very 
like  tragedy  in  the  penniless,  dishevled,  beaten, 
bruised,  scarcely-saved  condition  of  these  men, 
whose  sustenance,  and,  perhaps,  that  of  wives 
and  children,  depends  upon  the  success  of  their 
voyages. 

On  November  5,  1871,  there  appeared  at  San 
Francisco,  from  Honolulu  and  Australia,  the 
steamer  Moses  Taylor,  reporting  the  loss  of 
thirty-three  whalers,  some  of  them  crushed  and 
broken  by  bergs  and  floes,  all  of  them  abandoned 
in  the  Arctic  seas.  No  lives  were  lost,  but  the 
estimated  financial  loss  was  one  and  a  half  million 
dollars.  Were  one  to  follow  the  result  of  that 
loss  into  individual  lives,  numberless  tragedies 
might  be  brought  to  light,  many  new  dirges 
of  sorrow  sounded. 


THE  CAST-AWAY. 


'Alone,  alone  ;  all,  all  alone  ! 
Alone  on  a  wide,  wide  sea  !  " 

—  Ancient  Mariner. 


TRISTAN  DE  ACUNHA-ALMOST  A  WRECK, 


1  As  beautiful  Nancy  was  walkin'  one  dy, 

She  met  a  young  sylor,  all  hon  the  Mgh-wy, 
'E  stept  up  beside  'er,  and  to  'er  did  sy, 
O  ware  hare  ye  goin',  tell  me  pretty  myde  ?  " 


"  BULLY  good !  "  shouted  a  dozen  gruff  voices, 
"  You  sing  like  a  gen'leman  o'  forshun !  Take 
'nother  turn  around  the  capstan  an'  give  us  nex' 
versh ! " 

"  Close-reef,  first,"  replied  the  Cockney  singer. 
"  Ware's  the  bloody  bottle  ?  'Ere,  Weatherface, 
—  the  bottle,  you  lubber  !  " 

The  British  tar  threw  back  his  burly  head  and 
took  an  observation  through  his  tumbler.  He 
glanced  round  expectantly  upon  the  crowd  of 
whalemen,  awaiting  a  more  distinct  encore. 

66  Nex'  versh  !  "  roared  Weatherface,  making 
the  low  coral  walls  re-echo,  "  Nex'  versh ! " 
Then  they  all  shouted  together,  a  Go  on,  Jack ! 
Go  on ! " 


THE    CAST- A  WAY.  137 

So  Jack  Burkett  took  up  his  song  again,  sitting 
astride  the  canoe's  bows  in  that  abandoned  boat- 
house,  the  light  from  a  single  lantern  streaming 
warm  and  yellow  in  his  hard  face  while  he 
sang,  — 


"  As  beautiful  Nancy  was  walkin*  one  dy, 

She  met  a  young  sylor,  all  hon  the  'igh-wy, 
'E  stept  up  beside  her,"  — 


"Avast!  Avast!"  bawled  Mattapoisett  Joe, 
"  Avast !  you  boozy  lime-juicer,  you've  sung 
that  verse  a 'ready.  You're  half-seas  over,  lad. 
You  're  drunk  as  old  Weatherface." 

"  'Old  on,  ye  bloody  Yank  !  Hif  ye  don't  like 
me  bloody  chanty,  then  just  ye  sing  us  a  bloody 
chanty  as  ye  do  like." 

"The  bottle,"  said  Mattapoisett  Joe,  with  a 
bland  smile.  "  Will  my  brave  friend  Weatherface 
kindly  pass  me  the  bottle  ?  First  I'll  splice  the 
main-brace,  and  then  I'll  sing,  as  requested. 
Come,  my  bullies,  we  '11  all  drink  together  !  Fill 
up  your  glasses  —  how  's  this  for  a  toast  ?  — 


1  Be  cheery,  my  lads  !    May  your  hearts  never  fail, 
While  the  bold  harpooneer  is  a-striking  the  whale  !* 


There,    clink    your     glasses !  —  now    shoot    the 
sun!" 


138  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

Up  went  twenty  chins  in  air.  Down  went 
twenty  scalding  gulps  of  New  England  rum. 

Mattapoisett  set  his  empty  tumbler  on  the 
coral  window-sill,  leaned  heavily  against  the  wall, 
folded  his  brawny  arms,  and  began,  —  his  round, 
mellow  baritone  filling  the  boat-house  with  a  fine, 
vibrant  melody.  It  was  a  voice  that  would  have 
been  worthy  of  applause  in  better  company. 


"  When  sunk  deep  in  sleep  on  the  ocean, 
'Neath  southern  skies'  brilliant  blue  dome, 
In  fancy  I  hear  the  trees  rustle, 
That  shaded  my  window  at  home. 
I  hear  the  flocks  bleat  in  the  meadows, 
The  cries  of  the  men  to  their  teams, 
But  dearer  to  me  are  the  many 
Loved  faces  I  see  in  my  dreams." 


"  Good,  good,  good !  "  they  shouted,  Britons 
and  Yankees  alike.  Mattapoisett  Joe  had  chosen 
the  one  song  that  would  soften  every  heart,  the 
"  one  touch  of  nature "  that  would  make  the 
whole  sailor-world  kin.  He  took  up  the  second 
verse  :  — 


"  First  rises  the  old  chimney  corner, 
And  then  my  dear  father  I  see, 
Whose  pride  ties  are  over,  are  over, 
His  children  to  have  on  his  knee. 
And  then  by  the  bunk-board  stands  mother, 
With  eyes  full  of  sweet,  loving  joy, 
Who,  ere  going  to  rest,  bends  to  offer 
A  prayer  for  her  poor  sailor  boy." 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  139 

Had  the  light  from  the  lantern  been  a  very 
little  brighter,  all  hands  might  have  beheld  real 
tears  welling  up  in  the  eyes  of  Jack  Weatherface, 
but  whether  his  tender  sentimentality  was  due  to 
musical  responsiveness,  or  to  an  affectionate  dis 
position,  or  to  a  guilty  conscience,  or  to  the 
effects  of  New  England  rum,  no  fellow  can  say  for 
certain.  His  feelings,  however,  were  those  of  the 
whole  company.  The  song  had  found  their 
hearts. 

Mattapoisett  sang  on,  with  a  half  perceptible 
quiver  in  his  voice  :  — 

"All  changeless  beside  me  is  standing, 
A  sweet  girl  I  know,  oh  so  well  ! 
,  A  voice  murmurs,  '  Break  not  your  promise, 
You  made  in  the  green,  leafy  dell ! ' 
Now  she's  gone  ;  and  I  start  from  my  pillow, 
Aroused  by  the  sea-birds'  wild  screams, 
And  I'm  far,  far  away  from  those  loved  ones, 
Whose  faces  I  see  in  my  dreams  ! ' ' 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

Then  "  Bravo  !  Bravo !  "  burst  from  the  throats 
of  the  whalemen. 

The  low  rafters  shook  with  their  applause.  Six 
tumblers  were  smashed  in  the  uproar,  and  the 
sashing  was  knocked  clean  out  of  the  window- 
frame. 

"  Come/'  said  Mattapoisett,  "  Curse  the  doleful 
chanty !  Let's  take  a  cruise  around  the  old 


140  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

French  town  !  There's  a  bottle  half-full.  Put  it 
under  the  canoe.  When  we  come  back  we'll 
finish  it  off,  and  then  well  be  half -full,  eh,  my 
hearties  ?  " 

With  that  the  twenty  ruffians  burst  through 
the  door,  —  all  but  one,  the  English  cooper,  who, 
for  half-inebriated  reasons  of  his  own,  preferred 
to  remain  behind  in  the  boa1>house. 

Now  the  palm  wooded  summit  of  "  Mt.  Blanc/' 
looking  down  from  the  altitude  of  three  thousand 
feet,  has  seen  many  a  wild  time  in  old  Victoria. 
Often  and  often  has  the  little  island  of  Mane*, 
though  biggest  of  all  the  Seychelles,  been  fairly 
made  to  shake  under  the  riotous  revelling  of 
whaling  crews  ashore.  But  of  all  the  fierce  nights, 
this  black  and  starless  evening  was  among  the 
fiercest ;  and  of  all  the  disorderly  gangs  ashore  on 
Mahe,  these  Yankees  of  mine  and  these  British 
tars  from  the  "  lime-juicer  "  were  far  to  the  fore. 

"  You  know  the  old  saw,  ship-mates,"  sang  out 
Mattapoisett  Joe,  "  We  must  all  hang  together  or 
we'll  all  hang  separately  !  " 

"  Aye-aye,"  said  Jack  Burkett,  "  splice  helbows 
heverybody.  Hey?  my  lively  'earties.  Splice 
helbows  hall  'ands  !  " 

And  so  they  did;  nineteen  tipsy  sailors  all  lock 
ing  arms  and  careering  wildly  through  the  town. 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  141 

They  danced  around  a  gens  d'armes,  they  over 
turned  a  fruiterer's  truck,  they  smashed  a 
dozen  windows,  and  they  kissed  all  the  girls  they 
could  find  on  the  streets.  Then  they  locked  arms 
once  more,  and  charged  down  the  main  avenue  of 
Victoria  on  their  way  back  to  the  boat-house. 

"  Half  bottle  left  !  "  gurgled  poor,  old  Weather- 
face.  "  Splice  main  brace,  —  brace  main  splice, — 
close-reef !  " 

As  has  already  been  intimated,  the  cooper  of 
the  English  whaleship,  though  absent,  had  not 
been  made  conspicuous  by  his  absence.  Now, 
however,  as  the  rollicking  party  tumbled  into  the 
boai>house  again,  the  cooper  became  shockingly 
conspicuous  by  his  presence. 

He  lay  stretched  out  in  the  canoe,  like  the 
Lady  of  Shalott,  and  he  was  quite  as  unconscious 
as  that  unfortunate  celebrity.  Beside  him  lay 
the  bottle  (  a  "  dead  soldier  " )  entirely  empty. 

At  first  sight  of  so  horrid  a  spectacle  a  howl  of 
dismay  went  up  from  the  crowd. 

"Blast  his  toppy  blood-lights!"  roared 
Weatherface.  "How'll  we  main  splice-brace 
now  ?  " 

"Curse  the  cooper,"  said  Burkett,  "we'll 
cooper  'im;  we'll  put  the  'oops  on  'im;  we'll 
'ammer  'is  styves  !  " 


142  THE   CAST-AWAY. 

But  Mattapoisett  was  the  recognized  ring 
leader.  "Avast!"  he  cried,  "See  all  clear! 
Shove  them  big  doors  open !  We  '11  do  for 
the  son  of  a  sea-cook  !  We  '11  do  for  him  hand 
some  !  Bear  a  hand  there,  my  bully  chummies, 
handsomely !  Cheerily !  Now,  shipmates,  all 
together !  " 

With  that  the  ruffians  seized  hold  of  the 
cooper's  canoe,  rushed  it  swiftly  down  the  beach, 
and  launched  it  out  into  the  darkness  and  the 
night. 

Then  they  staggered  back  into  their  lair,  shut 
the  big  doors,  laid  in  a  new  bottle  of  "close- 
reef,"  drank  the  health  of  the  cast-away  cooper, 
and  toasted  his  many  virtues. 

They  topped  off  the  barrel-smith's  obsequies 
with  that  ghastly  sailor-song  since  made  famous 
by  Stevenson  : 

**  Fifteen  men  on  the  dead  man's  chest, 
Yo  -  ho  -ho,  and  a  bottle  of  rum." 

"  Rum,  rum,  rum,  an'  bottle  o'  ho  -  ho  !  "  mut 
tered  the  hilarious  Weatherface.  "  Let  by-gones 
be  'gones  !  Somebody  sing  sholly  janty !  " 

Burkett,  so  merry  that  he  had  quite  forgotten 
his  somewhat  recent  discomfiture,  called  lustily 
for  a  chanty  from  Mattapoisett  Joe.  The  whole 
crowd  took  up  the  cry. 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  143 

It  was  really  wonderful  what  a  cargo  Matta- 
poisett  could  carry.  He  was  a  little  uncertain  in 
his  steps,  and  he  had  an  air  of  general  inaccuracy 
that  shook  one's  faith  in  his  mental  stability,  yet 
his  tongue  had  not  forgotten  its  cunning. 

The  song  as  a  song  was  a  genuine  triumph. 
Ah,  yes  ;  but  the  selection  was  most  unfortunate. 
It  was  entitled  "  The  Sailor's  Grave,"  and  ran  like 
this :  — 

"  Our  bark  was  far,  far  from  the  land, 
When  the  fairest  of  our  gallant  band, 
Grew  deadly  pale  and  weaned  away, 
Like  the  twilight  hours  of  an  autumn  day. 
We  watched  him  through  long  hours  of  pain  ; 
Our  cares  were  great,  our  hopes  in  vain. 
At  death's  stroke  he  showed  no  coward  alarms, 
But  smiled  and  died  in  his  messmates'  arms. 

"  We  had  no  costly  winding-sheet, 
We  placed  two-pound  shot  at  his  feet  ; 
He  lay  in  his  hammock  as  snug  and  proud 
As  a  king  in  his  long  robe,  marble  bound. 
We  proudly  decked  his  funeral  vest, 
With  the  stars  and  stripes  across  his  breast  — 
We  gave  him  these  as  a  badge  of  the  brave, 
And  then  he  was  fit  for  a  sailor's  grave. 

"Our  voices  failed,  our  hearts  grew  weak, 
Hot  tears  were  seen  on  brownest  cheek, 
A  quiver  played  on  the  lip  of  pride, 
As  we  lowered  him  over  the  ship's  dark  side. 
A  plunge,  and  a  splash,  and  it  all  was  o'er, 
The  billows  rolled  as  they  rolled  before  ; 
But  many  a  wild  prayer  hallowed  the  wave, 
As  he  sank  to  rest  in  a  sailor's  grave.' ' 

It  may  seem  strange  till  you  stop  to  think  of  it, 
but  no  applause  rewarded  the  song.  Each  man 


144  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

had  solemn  and  guilty  thoughts  in  his  heart,  which 
were  roused  into  terrible  activity  by  Burkett's 
ill-chosen  chanty.  Yet  no  one  spoke.  The  men 
were  squatting  on  the  boat-house  floor,  leaning 
lazily  against  the  white  walls.  The  yellow 
lantern  was  smoking  dismally. 

At  this  junction,  so  ominous  of  sullen  resent 
ment  and  its  possible  result  in  blows,  if  not 
bloodshed,  a  sudden  interruption  changed  the 
scene  abruptly. 

There  was  a  loud  rapping  on  the  door  and  cries 
of  "  Ouvrez  la  porte,  ouvrez  aux  gens  d'armes, 
vous  etes  nos  prisonniers  !  Place  aux  officiers  !  " 

A  dozen  uniformed  Frenchmen,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  dashed  into  the  boat-house ;  great  con 
fusion  ensued ;  several  pistol-shots  were  fired  into 
the  air  ;  there  were  grapplings  and  blows  here 
and  there ;  and  then  the  biggest  of  the  gens 
d'armes,  no  doubt  a  sort  of  prefect  of  police, 
screamed  out  in  broken  English,  a  Silence !  Je 
command  silence ;  you  think  you  pouvez  raise  le 
didble  in  zis  place !  You  think  you  pouvez 
embrace  tous  les  dames!  I  tell  you  non,  non, 
NON,  messieurs  !  " 

Amazed  at  the  brilliant  behavior  of  the  prefect, 
the  whalemen  "  came  to  order."  In  an  instant 
the  boathouse  seemed  transformed  from  a  field 
of  battle  to  a  court  of  justice. 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  145 

Mattapoisett  pleaded  for  the  whole  crowd, 
urging  that  his  followers  were  a  well-meaning 
lot  of  lads ;  gentle  little  things,  you  know,  and 
very  young  ;  and  that  they  were  not  altogether 
familiar  with  the  customs  of  Mahe,  and  had 
offended  unwittingly.  How  were  an  innocent 
crew  of  foreigners  to  know  that  the  ladies  of 
Victoria  objected  to  being  promiscuously  kissed  ? 
In  New  Bedford,  he  insisted,  it  was  so  different. 
They  were  very,  very  sorry,  and  would  never^ 
never,  never  disturb  the  island  again. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  the  drunken 
sailors  were  all  shipped  off  to  the  whalers  in  the- 
harbor;  and,  thanks  to  Mattapoisett' s  logic  and 
rhetoric,  no  arrests  were  made.  However  a  gens 
d'armes  came  aboard  the  Hope  to  notify  me  that 
my  crew  had  received  an  official  reprimand,  and 
from  the  Hope  he  went  directly  to  the  captain  of 
the  lime  juicer. 

"  del!"  he  said,  "Vos  hommes,  ne  sont-ils  pas 
mechants  ?" 

Now,  when  the  English  officers  counted  noses 
next  morning,  they  found  many  a  grog-blossomed 
bill,  but  there  were  not  quite  bills  enough  to  suit 
them.  Some  one  was  missing. 

There  was  no  cooper  to  be  found  amongst  the 
crew ! 


10 


146 


THE    CAST-AWAY. 


Apparently  the  cooper  had  deserted ;  or  was  it 
not  possible  that  he  had  been  arrested  and  jailed 
for  participation  in  the  night's  disturbances  ?  In 
either  case  there  was  but  one  thing  to  do  —  appeal 
to  the  authorities  on  shore. 

This  the  bold  Briton  reluctantly  did,  hating 
above  all  things  to  ask  a  favor  of  a  Frenchman. 
At  the  same  time  he  sent  off  a  boat  to  call  at 
every  ship  in  the  harbor  and  request  that  diligent 
search  for  the  missing  cooper  be  made  on  board. 
The  day  went  by ;  the  whole  island  and  the 
whole  harbor  were  searched  with  the  utmost  care ; 
but  the  lost  sheep  could  nowise  be  brought  back 
into  the  fold. 

A  council  extraordinary  met  in  the  forecastle  of 
of  the  lime  juicer  that  afternoon  and  chose  Jack 
Burkett  as  their  unwilling  spokesman,  deputing 
him  to  proceed  to  the  quarter-deck  and  to  render 
to  the  captain  a  full  and  complete  confession  of 
their  manifold  sins  and  wickednesses,  neither  dis 
sembling  nor  cloaking  them,  but  acknowledging 
them  all  "  with  an  humble,  lowly,  penitent  and 
obedient  heart." 

So  Burkett  went  aft  upon  the  hateful  errand. 
He  told  the  whole  disgraceful  story  —  nineteen 
sailors  crazy  with  rum,  the  English  cooper  set 
adrift  in  an  oarless  and  paddleless  canoe,  and  a 
strong  tide  running  out  to  the  ocean. 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  147 

Rage  like  that  of  a  frenzied  demon  blazed  from 
the  old  man's  tough  countenance.  He  swore  a 
volley  of  terrible  curses. 

But  as  soon  as  he  came  to  himself  he  realized 
that  not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost  in  the  mere 
indulgence  of  righteous  wrath ;  so,  calling  "  'Hall 
'ands  "  aft,  he  detailed  the  men  to  various  duties 
in  rescue  service. 

The  mast-heads  were  to  be  manned  directly. 
Two  boats  were  to  spread  the  news  through  the 
harbor  and  ask  assistance  in  the  name  of  human 
ity.  The  other  boats  were  to  sail  and  row  out  to 
sea  as  far  as  they  dared  and  with  all  speed,  keep 
ing  wide  apart,  to  cover  as  large  an  area  as 
possible,  and  search  for  the  cooper's  canoe. 

I  gladly  lent  my  services  in  so  imperative  an 
enterprise.  I  was  the  more  eager  to  help  find  the 
cooper  because,  years  and  years  before,  I  had  seen 
a  cooper  buried  at  sea,  and  my  sympathies  were 
touched  and  my  fears  aroused  by  the  recollection 
of  that  pitiful  scene.  Was  the  poor  English 
barrel-smith  to  be  lost  in  the  deep,  buried  in  its 
restless  waters,  and  not  to  be  honored  with  even 
the  formal  reading  of  a  written  service  ? 

It  is  strange  with  what  vividness  such  impres 
sions  live  in  one's  memory,  and  upon  what  slender 
grounds  of  suggestion  they  rise  anew  into  activity. 


148  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

It  seemed  but  as  yesterday  that  we  had  left  Talcu- 
huano  for  a  cruise  on  the  coast  of  Chili,  and  we 
were  only  a  few  days  from  port  when  our  cooper 
fell  violently  ill.  We  were  within  a  day's  sail  of 
Valparaiso,  so  the  old  man  steered  for  that  port 
and  went  on  shore  for  medical  advice.  He 
returned  with  some  medicine,  but  it  proved  of 
no  avail.  Next  day  the  cooper  died.  We  kept 
him  till  the  following  afternoon,  and  then  we 
buried  him. 

At  four  o'clock  the  ship's  headway  was  stopped, 
the  stars  and  stripes  flung  out  at  half-mast,  and  all 
hands  called  to  bury  the  dead.  Wrapped  in  his 
blanket  and  sewed  in  strong  canvas,  with  a  bag  of 
sand  ballast  at  his  feet,  the  dead  man's  body  was 
brought  to  the  waist  and  laid  gently  on  the  gang 
way  board.  As  the  captain  read  the  solemn 
service,  the  men  uncovered  and  bowed  their  heads. 
At  the  words  "  We  commit  his  body  to  the  deep," 
the  pall-bearers  lifted  the  body  slowly  at  the  head ; 
and  then  —  all  that  remained  to  us  of  our  ship 
mate  was  the  pleasant  memory  he  left  behind  him, 
for  he  had  always  been  a  favorite  among  our  crew. 
So  we  left  him  to  his  peaceful,  dreamless  sleep, 
"  there  to  await  the  general  resurrection  in  the 
last  day."  That  night  I  read  with  a  better 
understanding  the  cheering  words  of  the  Apostle, 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  149 

"  This  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality."  (You 
didn't  know  they  had  Bibles  on  whale-ships?  Yes, 
they  do ;  and  what's  more,  they  read  them.)  I 
had  witnessed  many  burials  on  shore,  but  none 
had  ever  impressed  itself  so  indelibly  upon  my 
mind  as  this  solemn  burial  at  sea. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  tragical  recollection  that 
haunted  my  mind  as  we  joined  in  that  heart 
breaking  search  for  the  castaway. 

For  my  thoughts  went  out  to  a  certain, place 
upon  the  northern  end  of  Bird  Island,  one  of  this 
same  Seychelles  Group  —  a  spot  I  have  ever  since 
called  the  mournfullest  as  well  as  the  most  deso 
late  place  in  the  whole  world.  There,  grouped 
together  upon  a  lonely,  sun-beaten  flat,  whose 
stillness  is  broken  only  by  the  heavy,  rolling  surf 
that  dashes  on  the  shore,  are  the  graves  of  a  dozen 
sailors  who  have  been  buried  from  whale-ships 
cruising  around  those  banks  for  whales. 

Once  more  I  seemed  to  be  standing  alone 
among  those  uncared-for  graves,  and  looking 
out  across  the  waste  of  waters  toward  the  distant 
home,  thinking  I  could  see  some  poor  mother 
waiting  and  longing  and  watching,  and  at  last  so 
grievously  disappointed ;  or  perhaps  a  wife  and 
her  little  children,  enduring  prolonged  separation 
from  the  one  best  loved  of  all,  because  they  are 


150  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

saying,  "  It  can't  be  much  longer,  dearie,  —  it 
cant  be  much  longer !  " 

Then  was  this  poor  English  cooper  to  be  denied 
even  so  desolate  a  resting-place  as  the  sailor's 
cemetery  on  Bird  Island  ? 

And  who  —  I  could  not  help  asking  —  who 
would  be  the  broken-hearted  ones  at  home  ? 
Who  would  listen  with  grief  and  with  tears  to 
the  shameful  story  of  the  drunken  castaway  and 
his  tragical  end  ?  Oh,  there  would  be  sorrow  and 
mourning  in  that  little  English  hamlet  on  the 
Devonshire  coast !  Not  tonight,  nor  tomorrow 
night ;  but  a  whole  year  hence,  it  might  be,  or 
even  longer,  when  the  tale  would  be  told  at  home 
by  the  very  men  who  had  sent  the  cooper  to  his 
doom. 

Darkness  settled  like  a  pall  upon  our  dishearten 
ing  enterprise.  The  stars,  blazing  down  from 
that  southern  sky,  glared  pitiless  and  cruel.  The 
moon  —  red,  sullen,  mockingly  splendid  —  rose 
out  of  the  ocean  and  made  a  broad,  straight  path 
to  the  horizon.  (Out  upon  that  path,  the  men 
said,  the  cooper's  canoe  had  gone.)  "  Mt.  Blanc  " 
loomed  black  in  the  far  distance.  We  could  still 
see  the  lights  on  the  ships  in  the  harbor,  though 
the  lights  of  the  town  had  already  sunk  into 
the  sea. 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  151 

At  last  we  turned  back  and  went  aboard  the 
whalers.  We  had  satisfied  ourselves  that  the 
cooper  had  ere  this  met  his  death. 

There  was  grief  and  remorse  aboard  the  Hope. 
Half  our  men  had  murder  written  red  across 
their  souls. 

All  the  next  day  the  crew  brooded  and  repented 
and  growled.  There  were  no  songs  in  the  fore 
castle.  There  was  no  mention  of  "  The  Sailor's 
Grave."  There  was  no  allusion  to  faces  seen  in 
dreams.  They  had  all  seen  the  same  face.  Nor 
was  there  any  inclination  to  go  ashore.  The  town 
was  a  haunted  town,  the  boatrhouse  a  haunted 
house.  The  men  longed  to  leave  port.  In  the 
changeless  routine  of  sailing  or  the  adventurous 
vicissitudes  of  whale-hunting,  they  could  forget 
their  crime. 

And  so  even  the  third  day  went  by  much  as 
had  the  others  before  it,  though  there  was  a  lively 
scuffle  in  the  forecastle  late  that  afternoon.  Mat- 
tapoisett  Joe  was  knocked  down  and  jumped  upon 
by  three  of  his  shipmates. 

When  I  looked  into  the  matter  I  found  that 
Mattapoisett  had  been  assaulted  as  a  punishment 
for  —  what  do  you  think  ?  —  whistling  !  A  trivial 
offense,  you  say.  Yes,  but  listen. 

"  You  can't  blame  us,  sir,''  said  Weatherface, 
when  all  hands  had  been  called  aft  for  the  investi- 


152  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

gation.     "He    was   whistling   the   tune    of    that 
devilish  song,  — 

"  '  Fifteen  men  on  the  dead  man's  chest, 
To-  ho  -  ho,  and  a  bottle  of  rum.' 

If  you  was  us,  you'd  jumped  on  him,  too,  sir!'' 

I  turned  to  the  bruised  whistler,  and  I  said, 
"  Joe,  my  man,  what  shall  I  do  to  these  lads  ?  " 

"  Let  'em  all  go,  sir,"  said  Mattapoisett,  "  I  got 
no  more  'n  I  deserved." 

"Now  go  forward,  every  man  of  you,"  said  I, 
"  and  let  me  hear  no  more  of  your  troubles." 

I  say  the  third  day  went  by.  Perhaps  that  is 
an  over-statement.  As  my  men  started  forward, 
the  sun  was  already  setting.  The  whole  harbor 
was  red  in  its  glare. 

No  sooner  had  the  crew  left  the  quarter-deck 
than  loud  cheers  were  heard  off  to  starboard. 
The  men  on  the  British  whaler  were  dancing 
about  like  lunatics,  pitching  their  caps  into  the 
air,  and  shouting  themselves  hoarse. 

"  'Urrigh !  'Urrigh  ! !  'Urrigh  ! ! !  "  they  yelled. 
"  'Ere's  for  the  cooper,  once  more,  boys,  — 
'Urri-i-i-i-igh  !  " 

A  tiny  fishing  smack  had  been  beating  up  the 
harbor  for  the  last  hour,  and  now  she  was  coming 
alongside  the  lime-juicer.  Once  within  hailing 


THE    CAST- A  WAY.  158 

distance,  her  skipper  had  cried  out  to  the  British 
captain,  "Ahoy,  monsieur!  Ahoy!  J'ai  votre 
coopier  !  " 

No  cooper  was  seen,  but  the  cooper's  canoe 
followed  close  in  the  wake  of  the  sloop. 

Just  then  two  heads  appeared  above  the  fisher 
man's  hatch-way.  A  moment  more,  and  a  third 
head  came  in  view. 

It  was  the  cooper  —  pale  and  sick  and  haggard, 
but  still  alive  —  carried  in  the  arms  of  his 
preservers. 

"  Hurray !  Hurray  !  "  our  sailors  answered 
when  they  fully  took  in  the  situation.  Then  they 
danced  as  wildly  as  the  Englishmen,  hugged  each 
other  like  school-girls,  and  all  but  wept  for  joy. 

"  Hip,  hip  !  "  shouted  Mattapoisett  Joe,  forget- 
ing  his  bruises. 

"  Hurr-a-a-a-a-a-a-y !  !  !  !"  yelled  the  whole 
crew,  and  I  yelled  with  them. 

That  night  after  supper  I  gave  orders  to  my 
men  to  put  on  their  Sunday  clothes,  and  to  dress 
our  boats  with  all  the  bunting  they  could  carry. 

Weatherface  was  to  bring  his  fiddle  or  be  put  in 
irons.  Little  Tom  Bunker  was  to  bring  his  accor 
dion  or  suffer  a  similar  penalty.  The  cabin-boy, 
a  mere  creeper  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  was  to 
remain  behind  as  ship-keeper. 


154  THE    CAST-AWAY. 

Then  we  manned  the  boats,  lowered  away,  and 
pulled  to  the  merry  lime-juicer. 

We  found  ourselves  no  unexpected  guests. 
Elaborate  preparations  had  been  made  for  our 
entertainment.  The  "  doctor  "  had  filled  his  "  cop 
pers  "  with  the  most  toothsome  of  land  fare.  The 
crew  had  dressed  up  to  receive  us.  The  ship  had 
been  loaded  with  bright-colored  bunting.  The 
decks  had  been  cleared  for  dancing.  There  was 
an  all-round,  rollicking,  sailorly  good  time  that 
lasted  till  midnight. 

The  poor  cooper,  though  fully  conscious  of  the 
honors  being  paid  him,  was  too  weak  and  wretched 
to  join  in  the  festivities.  A  doctor  from  on  shore 
came  off  to  look  at  him,  and  recommended  hot 
milk  as  a  harmless  restorative.  When  I  looked  in 
upon  the  cooper  the  poor  fellow  turned  his  head 
mournfully  on  his  pillow  and  said,  "  Shiver  my 
soul,  but  I  feel  like  a  'ard-boiled  owl !  " 

Next  morning  we  hoisted  our  Blue  Peter,  a 
homeward  bounder.  It  was  worth  a  cask  of 
sperm  oil  to  hear  our  crew  sing  at  the  windlass  as 
they  hove  up  anchor.  I  was  an  old  sea-dog  even 
in  those  days;  I  didn't  come  through  the  cabin 
windows ;  I  was  put  through  the  mill,  ground  and 
bolted  ;  but  never  in  all  my  long  and  varied  salt 
water  experience  had  I  heard  a  crew  sing  better. 


THE    CAST- A  WAY.  155 

Mattapoisett's  resonant  baritone  carried  the  solo 
lines  superbly.  The  crew  shouted  the  refrain 
with  spirit —  or,  as  little  Tom  Bunker  said,  "  with 
great  venom." 

41  My  boy  he  was  a  sailor,  he  sailed  away  to  sea, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  But  when  he  went  to  sea  he  vow,d  he'd  soon  come  back  to  me! 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"He  sailed  upon  a  vessel,  a- whaling  for  to  go, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  It  was  a  tedious  journey,  but  he  was  bound  to  go, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  The  captain  was  a  good  man,  a  sailor  to  the  core, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"T'was  early  in  the  morning,  the  watch  was  down  below, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  A  sailor  in  the  mainmast  crow's-nest  sang  out  '  There  she  blows!' 

Heave  away,  my  hearties,  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
**  They  lowered  the  boats  and  struck  the  whale,  and  soon  the 
monster  died, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  They  tied  a  rope  upon  him  tight,  and  towed  him  alongside, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  We  cut  him  in  and  tried  him  out,  and  stowed  him  down  below, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"We'll  set  all  sail,  and  head  her  straight,  and  homeward  we  will  go, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  And  soon  we  shall  be  home  again;  our  friends  we  soon  shall  see, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
'*  And  when  we  see  New  Bedford,  we  will  no  more  go  to  sea, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  And  when  we  go  'longside  the  wharf,  and  put  our  feet  on  shore, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties ;  heave  away,  my  boys ! 
"  You  can  gamble  that  we'll  never  go  a-whaling  any  more, 

Heave  away,  my  hearties;  heave  away,  my  boys! " 

It  was  just  about  Christmas  time,  fine  hot 
weather,  that  we  came  within  sight  of  Tristan  de 
Acunha,  Lat.  37°  S.,  and  Long.  12°  16'  W.  The 


156  THE   CAST-AWAY. 

Portuguese  discoverer,  whose  name  the  island 
bears,  put  in  his  first  appearance,  so  I  have  read, 
in  1506.  He  certainly  deserves  to  have  his  name 
thus  immortalized  for  he  gave  the  world  a  new 
treasure,  indeed  —  a  very  pearl  of  an  island,  seven 
miles  across,  as  round  as  a  dollar,  and  enclosing  a 
fresh-water  lake  which  never  freezes.  That,  no 
doubt,  is  explained  by  the  volcanic  nature  of  the 
whole  formation.  Cliffs,  straight  as  a  castle  wall, 
tower  up  from  the  water's  edge  to  a  height  of 
two  thousand  feet.  Harbor  there  is  none,  and 
but  for  a  narrow  inlet  on  the  north  side,  no  ade 
quate  landing  place.  A  group  of  white-washed 
stone  houses  on  the  north-west  shore  is  the 
nearest  approach  to  a  town  anywhere  on  the 
island. 

Now  the  reason  all  these  details  have  fastened 
themselves  so  tenaciously  upon  my  memory  is 
that  right  here  I  came  near  losing  my  ship.  It 
was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  taking  off 
supplies  from  the  shore.  The  wind  —  our  only 
stay  since  it  was  too  deep  water  for  our  best 
bower  to  touch  bottom  —  had  died  out  to  a  calm. 
It  was  an  Irishman's  hurricane,  straight  up  and 
down;  and  yet  the  strong  ground-swell  of  the 
ocean  kept  carrying  us  further  and  further  in 
shore.  We  cracked  on  every  stitch  of  canvas  we 


THE    CAST-AWAY.  157 

could  spread,  and  with  half  a  hand  at  the  billows 
we  should  have  forged  ahead  all  fluking  ;  but  as  it 
was,  our  sails  hung  as  limp  as  the  dangling  damp 
sheets  on  an  indoor  clothes-horse.  There  was  not 
a  bubble  of  white  water  at  our  prow.  There  was 
not  a  streak  or  ripple  in  our  wake.  And  yet 
moment  by  moment  those  awful  cliffs  grew  taller. 
We  sent  out  a  boat  with  a  line  —  then  two  boats 
—  then  three  !  —  trying  our  sturdiest  to  ratch  the 
precious  barky  out  of  imminent  danger.  At  last 
the  cliff-crests  seemed  to  rise  no  higher,  though 
we  dared  not  trust  our  eyes,  we  so  longed  to  see 
them  stop  rising.  Already  the  breakers  pounded 
ominously  at  their  feet.  Already  the  sea-birds, 
nesting  amongst  their  crags,  called  hideously  near. 
By  chance  —  or  rather,  as  I  have  always  said, 
by  the  providence  of  God  —  another  ship  —  and 
she  a  whaler,  lay  not  far  from  us.  I  set  my  colors 
for  assistance,  and  down  into  the  water  came  her 
boats,  the  davit-blocks  creaking  and  the  whale 
men  shouting  encouragement  to  our  three  boats' 
crews.  Swift  as  so  many  racers  in  a  regatta,  the 
stranger's  cedar  craft  came  ripping  through  the 
smooth  water,  every  dip  and  plash  of  their  oars 
seeming  measurably  to  lift  and  lighten  the  burden 
of  our  suspense.  Six  boats  and  thirty-six  men 
saved  the  Hope  from  being  sent  on  that  iron- 


158 


THE    CAST-AWAY. 


bound  shore.  We  towed  her  well  off  shore,  and 
a  tardy  flaw  of  wind  at  last  bellied  out  her  canvas. 
Then  is  it  any  wonder  that  I  have  never  forgotten 
Tristan  de  Acunha  ? 


THE  WHALEMAN   WHO  WENT 
ON  THE  STAGE. 


Being  in  a  ship  is  being  in  jail,  with  a  chance  of  being  drowned." 

—  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson. 


JOHN  PIERCE  certainly  came  down  from  aloft. 
There  could  be  no  possible  doubt  about  that.  I 
certainly  spoke  with  him  as  he  passed  me  on  his 
way  to  the  forecastle.  This  much,  I  am  sure,  will 
never  be  called  in  question. 

But  what  followed  —  even  to  this  hour  it  makes 
me  shudder,  sickened  with  dread,  to  recall  what 
followed  —  the  days  of  anxiety,  the  grim  mystery, 
the  final  despair,  and  the  haunting,  harrowing 
problem  of  that  tragical  disappearance ! 

We  had  put  in  at  Fayal  to  ship  home  some 
hundred  barrels  and  more  of  sperm  oil,  and  then 
cleared  away  and  steered  to  the  south,  carrying 
all  sail  to  get  away  from  the  island.  We  left  at 
five  in  the  afternoon,  and  by  eleven  o'clock  that 
night,  when  we  had  made  about  fifteen  miles 
offing,  I  gave  orders  to  take  in  our  top-gallant 
sails,  and  poor  Pierce  went  aloft  with  the  others. 
As  he  slid  down  the  backstay  and  passed  me  on 
deck,  I  had  a  pleasant  word  with  him,  and  then  he 


160  WHALEMAN"    ON  THE    STAGE. 

went  forward  and  was  lost  to  view  in  the  darkness. 
Many  a  time  since  then  have  I  had  reason  to  be 
glad  that  my  last  words  to  the  man  were  kind. 

At  four  next  morning,  when  the  watch  was 
called,  no  John  Pierce  could  be  found. 

Every  nook  and  every  smallest  cranny  in  the 
whole  ship  was  looked  into,  but  all  to  no  purpose. 
Not  a  trace  of  the  fellow  could  we  discover. 
Reluctantly  at  last  we  gave  him  up  as  lost, 
convinced  against  our  wills  that  he  had  tumbled 
overboard  during  the  night. 

A  solemn  hush  fell  upon  us.  Hardened,  though 
most  of  us  were,  and  accustomed  to  the  constant 
dangers  of  a  seaman's  calling  —  used  though  we 
were  to  these  sudden  disappearances  from  life  and 
duty  —  we  could  never  be  reconciled  to  them. 
Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  each  new  death  of  this  sort 
were  more  dreadful  than  the  one  before  it. 

But,  as  usual,  the  sense  of  shock  and  of  wrong 
went  by.  The  man's  absence  ceased  to  impress 
us.  At  last  we  had  almost  forgotten  the  circum 
stance  of  his  taking  off. 

About  one  year  from  the  night  of  Pierce' s 
disappearance,  we  were  cruising  off  Madagascar. 

I  happened  that  day  to  be  running  over  my 
log-book  and  chanced  upon  the  entry  of  the  facts 
noted  above.  There  \vas  the  record  in  my  own 


A   CAPTAIN    IN    HIS    ARCTIC    OUTFIT. 


WHALEMAN    ON    THE    STAGE.  161 

hand,  a  deep  border  of  black  drawn  around  it.  I 
found  that  I  had  departed  from  the  usual  dry  and 
formal  log-book  style.  Indeed,  I  had  sentimental 
ized  not  a  little.  Viewing,  in  calmer  mood,  this 
eulogy  of  John  Pierce,  I  could  not  help  feeling  a 
little  amused.  I  had  always  made  fun  of  funeral 
sermons,  and  here  I  had  been  preaching  one 
myself  in  black  and  white. 

As  I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  reverie,  the  cabin- 
boy  dropped  down  the  stairway  to  bring  word  that 
a  whale-ship  had  just  been  sighted.  It  was  not 
long  after  that,  with  customary  ceremonies,  we 
spoke  her.  She  proved  to  be  an  old  friend  from 
Sag  Harbor. 

We  kept  fairly  close  together  until  sundown, 
and  then  the  Sag  Harbor  captain  and  boat's  crew 
came  on  board  to  spend  the  evening. 

There  in  the  boat,  to  our  utter  amazement,  was 
JOHN  PIERCE  !  He  had  grown  a  stubby  beard 
since  last  we  had  seen  him,  but  that  was  no  dis 
guise.  There  he  was  (to  my  infinite  relief)  alive 
and  well  —  the  same  unmistakable,  happy  -  go  - 
lucky,  jolly  Jack  Tar  as  before  he  had  gone  to 
his  watery  grave.  It  was  enough  to  make  a  man 
believe  in  the  transmigration  of  souls !  I  was 
mightily  glad  to  see  him  alive,  though,  to  tell  the 

truth,  I  had  not  greatly  missed  his  services. 
11 


162  WHALEMAN    ON    THE    STAGE. 

We  got  a  part  of  the  story  from  the  Sag  Harbor 
captain.  It  seems  they  had  sailed  out  of  port 
about  ten  in  the  morning,  the  next  day  after 
Pierce's  strange  disappearance.  At  four  that  after 
noon,  when  they  were  about  fifteen  miles  from  the 
land,  the  man  at  the  lookout  on  the  mainmast 
head  reported  something  in  sight,  floating  on  the 
water  about  two  miles  from  the  ship.  The  captain 
went  aloft  with  the  glass  to  have  a  look  at  it,  but 
could  not  make  out  what  it  was,  only  he  was  certain 
it  was  something  alive,  for  it  kept  moving  and 
wriggling  all  the  while,  as  if  to  attract  attention 
from  the  ship.  The  old  man's  curiosity  was  so 
thoroughly  aroused  by  this  time  that  he  veered 
off  his  course  and  steered  straight  for  the  strange 
object. 

"  When  I  came  near  enough,"  said  the  captain, 
"  What  should  I  see  through  my  glass  but  a  little 
live  man,  squatting  on  the  surface  of  the  water 
and  waving  his  arms  !  Yes,  that's  the  real  truth, 
and  I  give  an  honest  seaman's  word  for  it." 

My  eyes  were  well  open  by  this  time,  and  I 
was  beginning  to  believe  the  story. 

Talk  about  mermaids  and  sea-serpents  and  the 
Flying  Dutchman  and  the  rest  of  the  fo'cas'le 
nonsense !  Here  was  a  real,  genuine  thing  to  beat 
'em  all ! 


WHALEMAN    ON    THE    STAGE.  163 

"  But  the  lad's  aboard  now.  Here,  John  Pierce, 
come  into  the  cabin,  my  man,  and  tell  Captain 
Bobbins  the  stiffest  twister  he  ever  listened  to  ! 
Come,  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  Tell  us  how 
you  proved  yourself  the  fool  -  hardiest,  dare- 
devilest  galley-growler  that  ever  earned  a  sailor's 
blessing  !  " 

Pierce  had  already  come,  unwilling  and  with 
much  hesitation,  through  the  cabin  door.  Appar 
ently  he  was  gladder  to  see  me  than  he  was  to 
have  to  talk  with  me. 

"  Give  us  your  flipper,  boy ;  how  are  you  ? " 
said  I. 

Pierce  grinned  sheepishly.  "  Oh,  I'm  all  right," 
he  answered,  a  right  enough  anyhow  for  a  fellow 
that's  been  a  whole  good  year  in  the  bottom  of 
the  sea." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  captain,  "  out  with  it ! 
Tell  the  whole  outrageous  yarn  from  beginning 
to  end  or  I'll  log  you,  haze  you,  clap  the  darbies 
on  your  wrists,  make  a  spread  eagle  of  you,  and 
invite  you  to  walk  the  plank;  and  then  if  that 
won't  do,  I'll  shut  you  up  in  the  run  and  feed  you 
on  bread  and  water  !  " 

We  laughed,  all  three,  and  the  bashful  Pierce 
sat  down  between  the  two  "  old  men  "  and  took 
up  his  parable. 


164  WHALEMAN    ON    THE    STAGE. 

"  Fact  is,"  he  began  reluctantly,  "  Stormy  Jones 
and  I  got  sick  'o  the  voyage.  No  thin'  personal, 
Cap'n,  only  we  just  thought  we'd  got  to  have  a 
change. 

"  So  I  says  to  Jones,  '  shipmate,'  says  I,  '  let's 
move  ! ' 

" '  Avast,'  says  he,  '  where  the  deuce'll  we 
move  to  ? ' 

"  Then  says  I  to  Jones,  'Stormy,'  says  I,  '  you 
know  them  stages  ? ' 

" '  What  o'  them  stages  ? '  Jones  asks,  never 
taking  my  meaning. 

"  Then  I  says  to  Jones,  '  Bear  a  bob,  messmate, 
till  I  tell  you  the  news.  This  is  what  we'll  up 
and  do.  We'll  lower  one  of  them  stages  over  the 
ship's  bows  in  the  middle  o'  some  dark  night  and 
we'll  float  away  on  it,  us  two,  and  before  we're 
old  and  gray  and  toothless  some  ship  or  other'll 
come  along  and'  pick  us  up.' 

"  '  Risky,'  says  Jones. 

"  '  Aye,  aye,  sir,'  says  I,  <  Its  risky,  maybe,  and 
risky  maybe  not.  Ships  go  in  schools  like  cow 
whales  on  these  here  grounds.  Say  we  try  it,  my 
man! ' 

"  Then  Stormy  agrees,  old  hypocrit  as  he  is, 
and  next  thing  you  know  he  goes  and  backs  out 
of  it,  and  I  finds  myself  turned  captain  and  mate 


WHALEMAN    ON    THE    STAGE.  165 

and  crew  and  cabin-boy  of  a  craft  eight  feet  long 
and  just  fifteen  inches  wide.  But  I  says  to  myself, 
6  Pierce,  you  fool,  you're  in  for  it  now,  so  trust 
to  luck  for  your  miserable  life.  If  you  don't 
do  the  act  that  Jones  will  tell  the  crew,  and  then 
you'll  have  hell  afloat  the  rest  of  the  voyage. 

"  Well,  Cap'n  Bobbins,  you  remember  that 
night  I  took  my  leave.  You  thought  I'd  gone 
overboard,  didn't  you  ?  You  was  dead  right,  cap'n, 
dead  right,  right  as  a  right  whale.  That's  just 
where  I  had  gone.  But  you  thought  I'd  lost  the 
number  of  my  mess,  and  in  that  you  were  all 
wrong !  " 

I  stared  at  Pierce,  my  eyes  big  with  wonder. 
The  Sag  Harbor  captain  stared  at  me,  a  broad 
grin  covering  his  hard  red  face  as  he  watched  me 
take  in  this  ridiculous  confirmation  of  his  story. 

I  said  nothing. 

"  Go  on,  Pierce,"  said  Pierce' s  captain. 

"  Well,"  said  the  sailor,  "  you've  got  most  of  the 
yarn  a' ready,  sir.  But,  0  Lord  !  how  my  heart 
sickened  when  I  heard  that  stage  go  plunk  into 
the  water  on  the  Pope's  bow.  Then  I  slipped 
down  onto  it  and  let  go.  It  was  all  I  could  do 
not  to  holler  for  help  as  the  stage  slipped  aft  in 
the  swash.  Oh,  but  I  was  sick  o'  the  job  !  After 
awhile  I  did  holler,  but  it  was  too  late.  Nobody 


166  WHALEMAN    ON   THE   STAGE. 

could  hear  me.  Then  I  says,  '  Pierce,  my  hearty, 
you'll  never' 11  see  your  Nancy  ! ' 

"  You  know  the  rest.  The  cap'n  here  picked 
me  up  when  I  was  as  hungry  as  a  polar  bear,  and 
deathly  faint  and  scared  and  discouraged. 

"  But  what  beats  me,  Cap'n  Bobbins,  is  that 
Jones  held  his  tongue  all  that  while  and  never 
told  you  the  news ;  for  if  ever  a  seaman  was 
rigged  with  self-acting  jawing  tackle,  it's  that 
same  lubberly  coward  of  a  stormy  Jones !  " 

This  ended  the  mighty  yarn.  The  Sag  Harbor 
man  beamed  red  as  a  sunset. 

"  Aha,  sir,"  said  he,  "  you  thought  I  could  swear 
through  a  nine-inch  plank,  didn't  you  ?  But  it's 
true,  every  word,  just  as  I  tell  you  and  just  as  my 
man  Pierce  has  said.  And,  Pierce,  if  the  Cap'n 
has  no  objections,  you  may  go  for'ard  and  see  if 
you  can't  find  some  of  your  old  shipmates  in  the 
fo'cas'le." 

"  Pierce,"  I  added,  "  when  you  feel  like  it,  you 
may  come  back  here  and  read  your  epitaph  in  the 
log-book.  You'll  never  recognize  it  as  your  own, 
I'll  warrant." 

Then  the  Sag  Harbor  man  lit  his  pipe,  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  crossed  his  stout  legs,  and 
changed  the  subject.  «  By  the  way,  Cap'n,"  said 


WHALEMAN   ON   THE    STAGE.  167 

he,  "  what  do  you  hear  from  New  Bedford  ?  They 
tell  me  its  the  busiest  station  on  the  Underground 
Railroad." 


t  t 


WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S." 


"  Whales  has  feelin's  as  well  as  anybody.  They  don't  like  to  be  stuck  in  the 
gizzards,  an'  hauled  alongside,  an'  cut  in,  an'  tried  out  in  these  here  boilers  no 
more'n  I  do!  "  —  Barzy  Mack's  Biology. 


THE  whale  having  gone  down,  we  waited  for 
him  to  come  up  again.  Three  boats  danced  idly 
upon  the  warm  Madagascan  water  —  the  mate's, 
the  second  mate's  and  my  own.  The  sun  blazed 
viciously  down  from  a  cloudless  sky. 

We  lay  well  apart,  covering  a  large  area  of 
swelling,  billowy  sea.  When  the  whale  came  up 
again,  the  real  battle  would  begin. 

A  whole  hour  we  waited  in  anxious  expectance. 
As  is  natural  at  such  times,  my  thoughts,  mean 
while,  ran  back  years  and  years  to  other  whales 
and  other  fights.  Once  when  I  was  a  cabin  boy  I 
had  stood  three  hours  in  the  stern  of  a  stoven 
boat,  sunk  just  to  the  gunwale,  while  two  wounded 
whales  were  cutting  about  and  making  the  water 
white  with  their  huge  flukes,  so  near  that  it 
seemed  they  must  kill  me.  Was  the  monster, 
down  below  in  those  vague  amethystine  depths, 
preparing  some  such  terrors  for  the  present  occa 
sion  ?  I  recalled,  too,  how  once  a  dying  whale 
had  brought  his  spout-hole  up  against  our  boat 


^>'^'s£* 


,,i 

H. 

L    "#• 

!    e:      '; 


"WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S."  169 

and  belched  barrelsfull  of  gore  all  over  us,  so  that 
when  I  opened  my  eyes  every  man  was  painted 
red  —  completely  covered  with  fresh,  hot  blood, 
so  that  we  all  jumped  into  the  water  for  a  hasty 
bath.  Was  this  sunken  leviathan  making  ready 
to  serve  us  thus  today  ?  I  also  remembered  how 
a  gigantic  spouter  had  tossed  me  on  his  flukes 
—  boat,  boat's  crew,  craft  and  all  —  whist!  — 
twenty  feet  into  the  air,  till  it  seemed  that  we'd 
never  come  down  ;  and  how  I  found  myself  at 
last  launched  adrift,  clinging  to  a  piece  of  the 
steering-oar,  which  had  snapped  off  at  the  stern- 
post  of  the  shattered  boat.  Had  not  this  whale 
flukes  also  ?  How  would  he  use  them  ?  Should 
/  be  his  victim  ?  or  the  mate  ?  or  the  third  mate  ? 
There  is  something  delicious  in  this  exciting 
uncertainty.  It  makes  your  blood  tingle.  It 
makes  your  nerves  thrill.  It  makes  you  feel 
yourself  ready  to  face  the  whole  world  of  perils 
and  proudly  conquer  them  all.  You  stand  in  the 
stern-sheets,  leaning  on  the  steering-oar,  and  as 
you  look  into  the  faces  of  those  five  stalwart  men 
on  the  thwarts  before  you,  you  tell  yourself  they 
are  fine  heroes,  every  man  Jack  of  them.  Yes, 
heroes  !  Soldiers  face  no  greater  perils.  Soldiers 
win  no  worthier  laurels.  Back  of  every  trophy  of 
military  valor,  you  must  needs  see  human  blood- 


170  "WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S." 

shed,  human  bereavement,  human  cruelty,  and, 
far  too  often,  the  human  lust  for  name  and  place. 
But  the  whaleman's  glories  are  sullied  by  no  such 
shameful  pollution.  Is  he  rich  when  his  sea- 
toiling  days  are  done  ?  He  has  impoverished  no 
one.  Instead,  he  has  added  to  the  world's  wealth. 
Is  he  successful  in  the  pursuit  of  his  calling  ?  No 
widow  and  no  tearful  orphans  mourn  over  his 
triumphs.  Is  he  proud  of  his  profession  ?  He 
can  claim  for  it  the  good  name  of  an  honest  liveli 
hood,  a  lawful  and  law-abiding  business,  a  field 
for  soldierly  courage  purged  of  soldierly  brutality. 
Nor  do  tyrany  and  oppression  follow  in  his  paths. 
Instead,  come  only  the  blessings  of  a  peaceful 
prosperity. 

So,  as  I  was  saying,  you  stand  and  wait,  a-tingle 
with  enthusiasm.  You  are  in  your  glory  now. 
You  would  not  for  the  whole  world  be  any  other 
thing  but  a  whaleman.  You  are  glad  that  your 
boyhood  anticipated  this  splendid  life  of  adven 
ture,  and  aspired  after  its  high  responsibilities.  To 
its  toils  and  its  perils  you  willingly  devote  your 
youth  and  best  manhood.  You  will  be  proud,  in 
long  years  to  come,  to  recount  the  history  of  your 
daring  sea-battles. 

Few  landsmen  can  understand  these  things. 
You  must  go  a-blubber-hunting  on  your  own 


"WHALES   HAS   FEELIN's."  171 

account,  fully  to  grasp  their  meaning.  In  fact 
I  know  of  only  one  land-lubber  who  ever  really 
caught  the  spirit  of  the  whale-hunt,  and  that  is 
old  Walt  Whitman,  who  wrote  those  splendid, 
pictorial  lines  (albeit  they  go  devoid  of  rhyme, 
and,  in  place  of  precise  metre,  have  only  a  feeble 
and  slovenly  wobble) : 


"  O  the  whaleman's  joys!  O  I  cruise  my  old  cruise  again! 
I  feel  the  ship's  motion  under  me,  I  feel  the  Atlantic  breezes 

fanning  me. 
I  hear  the  cry  again  sent  down  from  the  mast-head,    There  she 

blows ! 
Again  I  spring  up  the  rigging  to  look  with  the  rest  —  we  descend, 

wild  with  excitement, 

I  leap  in  the  lowered  boat,  we  row  toward  our  prey  where  he  lies, 
We  approach  stealthy  and  silent,  I  see  the  mountainous  mass, 

lethargic,  basking, 
I  see  the  harpooner  standing  up,  I  see  the  weapon  dart  from  his 

vigorous  arm ; 

0  swift  again  far  out  in  the  ocean  the  wounded  whale,  settling, 

running  to  windward,  tows  me. 
Again  I  see  him  rise  to  breathe,  we  row  close  again, 

1  see  a  lance  driven  through  his  side,  pressed  deep,  turned  in  the 

wound, 
Again  we  back  off,  I  see  him  settle  again,  the  life  is  leaving  him 

fast. 
As  he  rises  he  spouts  blood,  I  see  him  swim  in  circles  narrower  and 

narrower,  swiftly  cutting  the  water  — 
I  see  him  die. 
He  gives  one  convulsive  leap  in  the  centre  of  the  circle,  and  then 

falls  flat  and  still  in  the  bloody  foam." 


Barring  the  single  sentence  "  I  see  the  moun 
tainous  mass/'  (apparently  Whitman  thought  a 
whale  cruised  around  two-thirds  out  of  water,  like 


172  "  WHALES    HAS    FEELIN's." 

a  steam-boat)  that  is  a  perfect  description  of  the 
taking  of  the  whale.  It  is  more  than  that.  It  is 
the  picture  of  the  inner  experience  of  the  chase 
and  the  fight  —  the  joy  of  it,  the  glow  of  it,  the 
wild,  fierce  thrill  of  it ! 

I  was  wishing  with  all  my  heart,  as  we  waited 
for  that  submarine  lounger  to  return  to  the  sur 
face,  that  I  could  somehow  tell  which  boat  would 
get  a  chance  to  fasten  to  him. 

But  a  sudden  end  to  reminiscence  and  philoso 
phizing.  Look !  There  is  frantic  excitement  in 
the  mate's  boat  off  to  leeward  —  "  Stand  up  and 
give  it  to  him  !  Quick,  quick,  quick  I  "  See  !  —  a 
figure  erect  in  the  boat's  bow  —  a  long  shaft 
wielded  in  both  hands  high  over  the  man's  head  — 
a  momentary  poise  —  a  swift,  springing  motion  — 
a  sudden  recoil —  the  harpoon  hurtling  through  the 
air — the  slender  line  singing  after  it — the  weapon 
sunk  fast  in  something,  and  that  something 
sinking  rapidly  into  the  depths,  dragging  the  line 
through  the  chocks  so  fast  the  druggs  could  do 
nothing  to  steady  it  —  fifty  fathoms  —  a  hun 
dred  —  two  hundred !  The  mate  and  the  har- 
pooner  have  changed  places.  The  men  dodged 
the  flying  line. 

Now  followed  a  fresh  period  of  suspense  — 
anxious,  but  brief. 


"WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S."  173 

After  a  few  minutes,  there  was  a  sudden  uproar 
in  the  second  mate's  boat.  Again  the  excited  cry, 
"  Stand  up  quick  —  give  it  to  him !  !  Again  a 
heavy  harpoon  was  sent  a-whizzing  through  the 
air,  and  plunging  deep  into  that  awful,  water- 
hidden  something.  Again  the  confusion  in  the 
boat  and  the  preparation  for  lancing. 

Responsive  to  the  stab  of  this  second  harpoon, 
the  monster  sullenly  settled  under  water.  The 
battle  was  now  well  joined.  What  next  ? 

Suddenly  and  all  unexpected,  the  whale  came 
up  again  like  a  submarine  boat.  He  bumped  his 
back  against  the  blades  of  the  first  mate's  oars, 
His  shiny  black  hump  stood  fully  a  foot  out  of 
water.  The  men  could, feel  the  damp  heat  of  his 
spout.  We  could  hear  the  sound  of  it. 

This  time  old  Blubber  had  gore  in  his  eye.  He 
was  in  for  carnage  and  calamity  and  consternation. 
He  lifted  his  huge  square  nose  ten  feet  into  the 
air,  and  dropping  his  long  under-jaw,  deliberately 
calculated  his  distance.  Then  with  a  hideous 
swing  of  his  whole  appalling  mass,  he  veered 
round  and  took  that  whale-boat  into  his  mouth. 
His  ivory  teeth  smashed  through  the  cedar  clinker- 
work.  The  boat  went  to  pieces  like  an  egg-shell. 

The  mate's  crew  flung  themselves  headlong  into 
the  water,  and  escaped  by  the  skin  of  their  teeth. 


174  "WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S." 

Now  the  whale  turned  suddenly  about.  His 
rage  redoubled.  He  would  have  blood  or  die  for 
it.  Making  for  the  third  officer's  boat,  he  threw 
his  cruel  jaw  across  it,  turning  it  bottom-up  and 
staving  it  in.  Again,  as  by  a  miracle,  every  man 
escaped  unhurt. 

A  pretty  situation !  There  were  now  two  boats' 
crews  floundering  and  sputtering  in  the  water, 
while  the  whale  was  lashing  the  waves  into  froth 
with  his  flukes  and  sending  the  suds  flying  in 
every  direction. 

With  the  one  remaining  boat,  I  succeeded  in 
picking  up  the  swimmers,  and  in  ferrying  them 
away  to  the  ship.  Fortunately  we  had  not  far  to 
travel. 

How  beautiful  the  Clara  Bell  looked  as  the 
boat  came  round  so  that  I  faced  her  again  !  Never 
had  I  thought  her  graceful,  half-clipper  lines  such 
an  exquisitely  perfect  model.  Never  had  winged- 
dragon  figure-head  impressed  me  as  such  a  con- 
sumate  triumph  of  the  wood-carver's  art.  Never 
had  the  two  white  streaks  along  her  side  from 
stem  to  stern  seemed  such  a  splendid  decoration. 
Never,  in  all  the  days  I  had  sailed  in  her,  had  she 
looked  the  white-robed  angel-guardian  she  did 
now.  She  stood  with  her  main-yard  hauled  aback. 
She  nodded  and  dipped,  and  rose  jauntily  on  the 


"WHALES    HAS    FEELIN's."  175 

ocean  swell.  She  was  the  joyfullest  ship  on  all 
the  seas.  We  were  going  back  to  her 

"  Oh,  ain't  I  all-fired  glad  we  got  done  with  that 
wild-eyed  monster  ?"  The  speaker  was  dripping 
with  brine.  "  I  calc'lated  I  was  clean  daown- 
swallered  like  old  Jonah  —  all-fired  sure  I  were  !  " 

"  Maybe  I  ain't  glad,  too !  oh,  maybe  not !  I 
could  look  way  down  in  the  dratted  brute's  dratted 
big  gizzards.  Deep  ?  Maybe  not.  Oh,  no.  Felt 
like  I  was  dangled  over  the  drattedest  deep  pit  in 
the  whole  dratted  world." 

"I  wouldn't  touch  that  there  man-eater  with 
the  far-end  of  a  spare  yard  —  not  for  money ;" 
said  a  third,  squeezing  the  salt-water  out  of  his 
beard,  "no,  not  for  money.  I  tell  you,  mess 
mates,  it's  homicide  an'  man-slaughter,  an'  bloody 
murder  with  malice  aforethought  to  take  an' 
dump  two  boats'  crews  down  the  gullet  o'  that 
pesky  man-eater,  I  tell  you  !  " 

But  think  not,  gentle  reader,  that  these  words 
were  spoken  in  anything  graver  than  jest. 

That  this  whale  was  a  tough  one,  I  have  no 
inclination  to  deny  —  not  the  slightest.  I  followed 
the  sea  forty-one  years,  I  was  captain  of  a  ship 
twenty-eight  years,  I  have  sailed  more  than  a 
million  miles,  and  I  have  had  a  hand  in  the  taking 
of  about  twelve  thousand  barrels  of  oil ;  but  this 


176  "WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S." 

fighting  leviathan  off  Fort  Dauphin  was  one  of 
the  fiercest  bits  of  blubber  I  ever  raised  out  of  the 
ocean.  Yet  neither  I  nor  my  men  had  any 
thought  of  surrender.  We  had  already  wasted 
two  boats  on  him  and  we  meant  to  be  paid  for  the 
outlay.  We  insisted  upon  exacting  a  war  indemity, 
payable  in  sperm  oil — a  hundred  or  a  hundred 
and  twenty  barrels  —  the  more  the  merrier ! 

We  clambered  up  the  ship's  side  and  over  the 
rail.  From  the  deck  we  could  get  a  startling 
view  of  the  enemy.  The  infuriated  beast  lay 
wounded,  only  a  short  distance  from  the  ship, 
thrashing  around  amongst  the  floating  debris  — 
oars,  paddles,  lanterns,  and  water-kegs  —  to  say 
nothing  of  what  remained  of  our  two  boats,  the 
one  a  stoven  wreck,  the  other  smashed  to 
splinters.  It  would  have  turned  a  landsman  cold 
and  stiff  with  horror.  Nor  am  I  certain  that  all 
our  crew  were  anxious  to  renew  the  battle. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  we  immediately  got  down 
two  new  spare  boats  from  the  skids  overhead. 
We  made  them  ready  for  a  desperate  encounter 
as  we  were  going  into  the  face  of  death.  We 
meant  to  have  the  chances  in  our  favor.  The 
boats  must  be  made  as  light  as  possible,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  dart  away  in  an  instant,  if  necessary, 
when  the  whale  showed  fight  again.  To  this  end, 


CLEANING    UP    AND    REPAIRING. 


"  WHALES    HAS    FEELIN's."  177 

we  hastily  prepared  the  most  severely  abridged 
outfit  —  not  an  inch  of  line,  and  not  a  single  piece 
of  craft  beyond  a  gun  and  a  bomb-lance  in  the 
mate's  boat  and  two  hand-lances  in  mine.  We 
manned  the  boats  with  strong  crews.  The  mate 
took  the  second  mate  along  with  him,  and  I  took 
the  third  mate.  We  lowered  the  boats  and  sped 
away  toward  our  prey. 

How  bright,  how  amber-hued,  the  southern 
sunlight,  as  it  fell  languorous  and  beautiful  upon 
the  ocean  billows  !  How  buoyant  the  dance  of  our 
hurrying  boats !  How  impressive  the  swoop  and 
the  soaring  of  the  white  gulls  and  albatrosses ! 
And  yet,  I  dare  say,  not  one  of  us  responded  to 
the  fine  romanticism  of  nature  —  we  were  bent 
upon  too  desperate  an  errand.  There  may  be  a 
perennially  fascinating  charm  in  whaling  life  when 
viewed  from  afar,  but  there  are  times  when  the 
business  assumes  a  grim  ugliness  at  close  range. 
The  poetry  of  the  sea  has  always  been  written  by 
landsmen.  It  always  will  be. 

Charm  assuredly  there  had  been  in  the  suspense 
and  expectant  anxiety  preceeding  this  desperate 
fight  —  charm  enough,  when  its  horrors  were  only 
a  possibility ;  but  now,  when  the  mystery  was 
pierced,  the  terrors  become  hideous  facts,  and  the 
nature  of  the  foe  fully  known,  the  fun  was  gone 

12 


178  "WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S." 

altogether.  When  a  fighting  whale  has  chewed 
up  two  of  your  boats  and  beaten  you  roundly  in 
his  first  pitched  battle,  it  is  a  little  unpleasant  to 
go  at  him  again. 

Our  blood  ran  high,  as  we  approached  the 
infuriated  monster.  His  spout  stood  up  as  tall  as 
ever.  He  had  been  no  whit  enfeebled  by  his 
tremendous  exertions.  Two  harpoons  stuck  out 
of  his  back.  His  flukes  swung  in  air  with  deadly 
force  and  rapidity. 

The  mate  went  to  leeward  of  him  and  fired  a 
bomb-lance  into  him,  but  missed  his  vitals. 

Instantly  the  wounded  creature  turned  about, 
heaved  his  head  way  out  of  water,  opened  his 
cavernous  mouth,  and  made  a  frightful  lunge  for 
the  mate's  boat.  I  was  just  in  time.  I  stood  in 
the  bow  of  my  boat,  hardly  able  to  wait  long 
enough  to  choose  the  right  spot  for  the  stab.  I 
was  mad  with  excitement.  I  plunged  the  long 
lance  deep  into  the  whale's  vitals,  and  the  blood 
came  belching  out  of  his  spout-hole  rich  and  red 
and  warm,  and  after  a  few  moments  our  victim 
turned  up  dead  and  in  a  few  moments  more  we 
had  him  in  the  fluke  chains  along  side  the  Clara 
Bell. 

Deafening  indeed  were  the  cheers  from  the 
ship's  deck  when  we  had  won  that  desperate 


"WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S."  179 

fight;  warm  was  the  hand-grip  of  mess-mates  as 
we  climbed  aboard  ;  broad  and  bland  the  smile  on 
every  sun-browned  face !  We  were  all  alive.  We 
were  all  unhurt.  We  had  killed  the  whale. 

The  inevitable  well-worn  joke  now  went  the 
rounds.  "  Better  have  paid  your  wash-woman !  " 

"  You  needn't  talk,  Jack ;  you're  as  wet  as  a 
draownded  shark." 

"  Don't  care  if  I  be.  Ain't  no  gearin'  'tween 
wash-tubs  an'  whale-boats.  Who  said  there  was  ?  " 

"  You  did,  you  slushy  hypocritter,  you.  Ef 
'taint  so,  then  what'd  you  say  I  cheated  my 
wash-woman  for,  jest  on  accaount  o'  me  bein'  in  a 
stoven  boat,  you  loony  beach-comber  ?  " 

"  Clew  down  your  jawin'-tackle,  sonny  wax ! 
Cheerily,  oh!" 

This  sort  of  mock-malice  stood  for  the  best  of 
good-will.  The  more  those  men  berated  each 
other  the  better  they  felt  all  around. 

When  they  took  the  falls  to  the  windlass  and 
manned  the  bars  it  was  a  joy  to  hear  them  sing. 
Sailor-songs  are  not  metrically  faultless,  any  more 
than  Whitman's  poems ;  but  they  have  the  Jack 
Tar  spirit  of  the  forecastle  breathing  all  through 
them,  and  hear  and  there  a  touch  of  easy  humor. 
This  particular  song  ran,  as  I  remember  it,  some 
thing  after  this  fashion  :  — 


180  "  WHALES   HAS   FEELIN's." 

*'  O,  Johnny  was  no  sailor, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
Still  he  shipped  on  a  Yankee  whaler, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso. ) 
He  could  not  do  his  duty, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
And  he  tried  to  run  away  then, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
They  caught  and  brought  him  back  again, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
And  he  said  he  never  would  go  again, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
They  put  him  pounding  cable, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
And  found  him  very  able, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
He  said  he'd  run  away  no  more, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
He  only  waited  to  get  on  shore, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
So  when  he  put  his  feet  on  shore, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.) 
A-whaling  he  would  go  no  more, 

(Renso,  boys,  Renso.)" 


What  a  whale  that  was  !  He  was  the  biggest 
fellow  I  ever  fell  in  with.  He  measured  sixty- 
four  feet  over  all,  and  he  had  a  sixteen-foot  jaw. 
His  flukes  stretched  sixteen  feet  from  tip  to  tip. 
He  made  a  hundred  and  thirty  barrels  of  oil. 

"  Think  what  that  old  spouter  must  have 
weighed,"  said  the  mate,  when  we  had  got  him 
coopered.  "  One  hundred  and  thirty  barrels  at 
eight  pounds  a  gallon  —  that  makes  —  let  me 
see  —  that  makes  "  (scratching  of  head,  squirming 
of  eyebrows,  smile  of  relief  at  last)  "  that  makes 


"WHALES  HAS  FEELIN'S."  181 

two  thousand,  seven  hundred  and  sixty  pounds 
of  oil." 

"  Here,  here !  "  I  said,  "  work  that  out  on 
paper,  Mr.  Wilson ;  let's  be  accurate.  I'd  really 
like  to  get  at  the  facts." 

So  Mr.  Dorman  figured  it  out  in  unimpeachable 
black  and  white.  He  was  right.  Thirty-two 
thousand,  seven  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  of 
oil! 

"  Now,  Cap'n  Bobbins,"  he  continued,  "  you'll 
grant  it's  within  limits  to  say,  one-third  oil,  two- 
thirds  waste?" 

"  Yes,  a  fair  estimate ;  nobody  can  dispute 
that." 


THE  GAM. 

"  I'd  ruther  gam  for  fifteen  minutes  than  slush  the  mast  for  fifteen  weeks." 

—Rubaiyat  of  Salthorse  Dooley. 

"WHAT  did  you  say  your  old  man's  name  was  ?  " 

"  Bobbins,  shipmates,  an*  as  thorough  a  seaman 
as  ever  trod  the  quarter-deck." 

"Strict?" 

"Yes  —  an'  no.  You  don't  feel  like  you  was 
being  governed,  an'  yit  ev'ry  man  aboard  done 
what  he  said,  ev'ry  time.  They  ain't  no  half- 
laughs  an'  sailor's  grins  about  him.  He's  straight 
up  an'  down,  like  a  yard  o'  pump  water !  " 

"  A  jolly  wag,  too !  "  broke  in  a  third  heavy 
voice.  "  You  ought  to  seen  him  play  it  on  them 
full-rig  Mohammedans  at  Johanna.  By  George, 
it  was  fun  !  Worth  a  man's  hull  advance  pay!  " 

Two  bells  !  One  o'clock  in  the  morning  !  And 
the  ships  were  gamming  still.  The  two  captains 
were  holding  high  converse  in  the  Clara  Bell's 
cabin,  and  until  the  visiting  master  saw  fit  to 
return  to  his  vessel,  the  visiting  watch  from  the 
stranger  made  merry  in  the  Clara  Bell's  fore 
castle.  It  was  a  delight  to  see  new  faces.  It  was 
a  rare  treat  to  hear  new  voices.  It  was  a  fine, 
novel  pleasure  to  match  yarns  all  round. 


THE    GAM.  183 

The  men  sat  on  the  stout  sea-chests  along  the 
sides  of  that  semi-circular  room  in  the  whale-ship's 
bow.  There  were  eighteen  men  in  all ;  nine 
were  hosts,  nine  were  guests.  Light  streamed 
down  upon  them  from  greasy  lamps  hung  up 
on  the  bitts.  The  air  was  dim  with  the  smoke 
of  cheap  tobacco. 

Gamming  is  distinctly  a  whaleman's  pastime. 
Merchant  ships  will  pass  each  other  in  mid-ocean 
without  a  sign  of  recognition,  steam-craft  will  go 
by  with  a  snobbish  air  that  almost  approaches 
hostility,  but  whale-ships,  when  they  meet,  are 
friendlier.  They  will  heave  to,  after  the  day's 
cruising  is  over  and  there  is  no  longer  any  chance 
of  raising  whales,  and  the  captain's  watch  of  one 
ship  will  entertain  the  captain's  watch  of  the  other 
ship.  Similarly,  the  two  chief  mates'  watches 
come  together.  This  is  called  "  gamming." 

On  that  particular  occasion  the  Clara  Bell's 
forecastle  had  been  a  hilarious  roistering  place 
since  seven  in  the  evening.  There  had  been 
songs  and  cards  and  smoke ;  and  smoke  and 
cards  and  songs.  There  had  been  long-spun, 
hair-lifting  narratives  of  whaling  adventures. 
There  had  also  been  news  from  home  —  some 
of  it  a  year  old,  but  still  very  startling  ;  and  some 
of  it  six  months  new,  every  word  an  eye-opener. 


184  THE    GAM. 

And  now  they  had  taken  to  telling  land-yarns  and 
stories  of  recent  ports.  Plainly,  the  gam  was 
about  gammed  out. 

"  Well,  chummy,  what  about  Johanna  ?  '' 

"Dy'e  know  the  place?" 

"  Know  it  ?  Guess  I  do.  Here's  my  tarry 
flipper  on  it !  Know  Johanny,  do  I  ?  I  knowed 
Johanny  'fore  I'd  learnt  my  three  L's.  It's  got 
high  hills  'round  it,  an'  you  can  see  'em  forty  mile 
out  to  sea,  —  ain't  I  right  ?  An'  them  white  stone 
houses  in  the  town  —  they  ain't  no  taller,  b'gosh, 
than  a  whaleship's  hurricane  house.  Ain't  that 
so,  messmate  ?  An'  them  copper-colored  natives, 
an'  their  gaff-tops'l  turbans,  an'  their  white  gowns 
as  if  they  was  goin'  to  be  buried  at  sea,  an'  the 
beetle-nut  they  chews  that  gits  their  teeth  as 
black  as  tar  an'  gits  the  deck  as  red  as  blood, 
b'gosh,  so  nothin'  short  o'  the  prayer-books  '11 
take  it  off  ag'in, —  don't  I  remember  'em  ?  Who 
says  I  ain't  been  to  Johanny  ?  " 

But  the  third  voice,  who  seemed  to  think  him 
self  particularly  predestined  and  foreordained  to 
man  the  pumps  and  keep  the  stories  flowing, 
urged  again,  "  What  about  the  old  man  and  the 
natives  ?  Tell  us,  chummy.  " 

So  "  Bilge  "  Dennett  took  his  pipe  out  of  his 
broad  mouth,  and  tapping  the  bowl  gently  against 


THE    GAM.  185 

the  sea-chest,  dumped  the  ashes  on  the  forecastle 
floor. 

"  Well,  boys,"  he  said,  looking  out  craftily  from 
under  his  ragged  red  eye-brows  and  lifting  an 
awkward  forefinger  in  a  jerky  gesture,  as  if  to 
say,  "  Keep  your  weather  eye  open  ;  she's  com 
ing!" —  "Well,  boys;  you  know  how  them 
sogerin'  Moslems  hates  pork,  'an  pork-grease,  an 
any  sort  o'  grease.  Worse  'n  Sheenies,  ain't  they  ? 

"  Well,  the  old  man,  he  comes  it  on  'em  mighty 
ship-shape.  He'd  clap  a  lump  o'  butter  in  the 
palm  o'  his  flipper  just  'fore  he  come  up  on  deck 
in  the  morin' ;  an  pretty  soon  a  brown  Ay-rab 
would  sail  up  to  him  to  talk  tradin'  'an  that  like  ; 
an'  when  them  two  spliced  hands  it  was  worse  'n 
whales  an'  killers. 

"  Then,  by  the  bloody  wars,  they  was  a 
tornado  !  That  Moslem  would  be  brought  up  all 
standin',  an'  he'd  jump  back  an'  pull  his  sheath- 
knife  out  o'  his  belt  and  strike  a  figger  like  a 
villian  in  a  play,  an'  sing  out,  '  If  you  wa'  n't  my 
friend,  I'd  kill  you  in  a  minute  ! '  You  ought  to 
see  it,  lads. 

"  Then  the  old  man  would  sing  out  for  the 
cabin-boy  to  turn  to  an'  fetch  a  basin  o'  water  an' 
a  clean  towel,  an'  when  the  Ay-rab  had  swabbed 
his  flipper  he'd  feel  chummy  again  and  then  them 


186  THE    GAM. 

two  would  love  each  other  just  like  no  thin' 
oncommon  'd  happened." 

An  appreciative  grin  spread  over  the  faces  of 
the  listeners. 

"Just  wait  till  we  put  in  at  Johanna/'  said 
one ;  "  we'll  butter  them  natives ;  we'll  make 
buttered  rolls  of  the  whole  crew  of  'em ;  flowed 
if  we  wont." 

Then  Bilge  resumed. 

"  That  ain't  the  only  thing  the  old  man  done  at 
Johanna,  bless  his  old  soul.  One  day  he  goes  on 
shore  an'  cruises  'round  with  a  Moslem  merchant 
intendin'  to  go  to  the  brown  man's  house.  All  on 
a  sudden  a  bell  rings  out  from  a  big  white  mosque, 
an'  down  drops  the  brown  man  on  his  knees  like 
he  was  shot  —  down  killick  !  —  an'  he  clapped  his 
head  three  times  on  the  ground  an'  had  over  a 
long  pious  chanty  in  Ay-rab  lingo,  an'  then  up  he 
got  ag'in  an'  looked  'round  for  the  old  man.  But 
the  old  man,  bless  his  soul,  he'd  forged  ahead 
while  the  brown  man  was.  hove  down,  an'  so  he 
come  up  to  the  house  first.  Ha,  ha  ! 

"Now  you  know  how  shy  them  Johanna 
women  be." 

"  Guess  I  do,"  broke  in  the  Man  Who  Had 
Been  There  Himself.  "  You  bet  I  do  !  You  can 
gamble  on  that,  night  an'  day,  b'gosh !  You  cruise 


THE    GAM.  187 

around  them  crooked  streets,  looking  an  looking 
an'  looking  but  b'gosh  you  don't  raise  a  gal  1 
Them  women  gits  from  house  to  house  by  goin' 
aloft  an'  sneaking'  along  them  flat  roofs,  b'gosh  ! 
An'  a  chap  don't  see  his  Nancy  till  they're  spliced 
in  the  mosque  by  some  sky-pilot  or  Holy  Joe  or 
other,  or  whatever  them  Ay-rabs  calls  him  !  " 

"  Aye-aye,  messmate,  we  all  know  you've  been 
there,  but  Bilge  Dennett  is  holding  the  yarn. 
You  ain't.  Go  on,  Bilgy !  What  did  the  old  man 
do  when  he  dropped  his  mud-hook  in  the  Ay-rab's 
shanty  ?  "  The  speaker  was  one  of  the  visiting 
watch.  The  Man  Who  Had  Been  There  Himself 
subsided. 

"  Well,"  Bilgy  resumed,  relieved  at  being  no 
longer  interrupted,  "  'taint  so  much  what  he  done 
inside  as  what  he  never  done  at  all  when  he  first 
cume  up  to  the  door.  They's  a  kind  o'  harbor 
law  to  Johanna  it  says  you  must  give  three  loud 
raps  on  the  door  an'  a  good  waitin'  spell  'tween 
the  raps  so's  to  let  the  women  folks  know  a  man's 
a-comin'  an'  put  for  shelter.  That's  the  rule  o' 
the  road  an'  there's  the  devil  to  pay  if  you  don't 
sail  by  it. 

"Well,  the  old  man,  bless  his  jolly  toplights, 
he  just  give  the  door  one  good  thump  an'  then  in 
he  forged  all  ataunto. 


188  THE    GAM. 

"  There  in  the  cabin  —  I  mean,  there  in  the 
parlor, —  was  the  Ay-rab's  wife  and  daughter, 
with  not  more'n  half  their  standin'  riggin'  on, 
naked  from  their  waists  up !  Heavens,  wa'n't  they 
gallied !  They  jumped  for  safety  like  a  brace  o' 
jack-rabbits. 

"  Then  that  Ay-rab  begun  cussin'  worse' n  forty 
pirates  on  a  raft !  Thunder  an'  lightnin',  but 
didn't  he  give  it  to  the  old  man !  but  the  old 
man  just  keeps  a'  talkin'  business  —  so  many 
fathom  o'  cotton  cloth  for  so  many  live  hogs,  so 
many  pounds  o'  gunpowder  for  so  many  cords  o' 
wood,  an'  so  on  an'  so  on  —  till  at  last  the  brown 
man  cools  off  as  cool  as  a  cask  o'  sperm  oil  all  fit 
to  be  coopered. 

"  An  Men's  an'  fellow  cit'zens,  as  they  say  in 
town-meetin'  back  in  old  Vermont,  that's  how  I 
have  the  honor  (a-hem)  to  be  sailin'  under  the 
only  live  Yankee  that  ever  saw  a  woman  in 
Johanna." 

There  was  an  evident  demand  for  Johanna 
stories.  The  Clara  Bell's  men  liked  to  hear  the 
captain's  prowess  enlarged  upon.  The  strangers 
liked  to  learn  all  they  could  about  Johanna  so  as 
not  to  be  altogether  green  when  they  came  into 
port,  and  every  Jack  Tar  of  them  was  vowing  in 
his  innermost  heart  of  hearts  and  swearing  by  all 


THE    GAM.  189 

that's  ship-shape  that  he'd  make  those  Arabs  dance 
a  break-down  and  teach  them  just  a  few  new  steps 
into  the  bargain. 

"  Come,  Bilgy,  my  jolly  sea-dog,  tell  'em  about 
the  coffee.  That'll  start  their  stanchions !  " 

"  Yes,  Bilgy,  tell  'em  how  the  steward  hazed 
them  Ay-rab  waisters  !  " 

"  Aye-aye,  Bilgy,  clew  up  your  jawin'  tackle, 
an'  you'll  make  these  here  jolly  strangers  grin 
like  so  many  right  whales  !  " 

"  Come,  tumble  up,  my  lively  hearty,  out  with 
the  twister ! " 

"  On  one  condition  an'  one  only/'  said  Bilge 
Dennett,  "  an'  that  condition  is  this,  mess-mates  : 
I'll  spin  the  yarn,  but  only  after  that  there  man- 
o'-war's-man's  sung  us  another  rare  old  chanty. 
So,  Four-decker,  give  us  a  broadside  !  Can't  you 
bellow  the  '  Commodore  ',  or  have  you  clean  forgot 
it,  so  long  since  you  was  a  blue-jacket  ?  " 

"  The  '  Commodore  '  —  give  us  the  '  Commo 
dore,'  "  the  sailors  shouted,  "give  us  the  '  Commo 
dore',  or  we'll  scuttle  your  old  hulk  and  send  you 
plumb  to  Jimmy  Squarefoot." 

The  blue-jacket  —  or,  as  some  would  say,  the 
jolly  —  was  proud  of  his  former  service  in  the 
navy,  so  proud,  in  fact,  that  he  thought  he  had 
stepped  down  a  ratline  or  two  in  reducing  himself 


190  THE    GAM. 

to  a  mere  mercenary  blubber-hunter.  He  had 
been  waiting  all  the  evening  for  somebody  to  call 
for  a  line-of-battle-ship  yarn,  but  this  invitation  to 
sing  was  the  nearest  approach  to  such  solicitation. 
He  therefore  jumped  at  the  chance.  He  assumed 
for  the  moment  an  air  of  aggrieved  timidity,  but 
when  the  crowd  insisted,  he  reluctantly,  but  firmly, 
submitted. 

Four-decker  was  a  stout,  deep-chested,  beef- 
laden  seaman  with  a  cavernous  mouth  and  a 
ponderous  bass  voice.  He  sang  with  the  gusto  of 
a  music-hall  soloist  and  an  occasional  tragic  gesture 
enlivened  the  ballad  :  — 


"  It  was  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night, 
The  wind  nor' west  did  blow; 
And  from  the  ship's  high,  lofty  bows, 
That  were  pitching  to  and  fro, 
Could  be  heard  loud,  rattling  peals  of  thunder, 
And  fierce,  wild  lightnings  fly. 
Hail,  rain  and  sleet  and  thunders  meet, 
And  dismal  was  the  sky. 

"  'Twas  early  on  next  morning 

Our  brave  commander  said 
'  Whoever  has  the  lookout,  go  up  to  the  mast-head, 

And  keep  a  good  lookout,  my  boy, 

And  try  what  you  can  see !  ' 

And  he  soon  cried  out  from  the  mast-head, 
*  Two  large  ships  under  our  lee ! ' 

"  Now  one  was  off  our  quarter, 
The  other  off  our  cat-head. 
We  cleared  away  for  action, 
As  our  brave  commander  said. 


191 


THE    GAM. 

The  job  being  done,  it  counted  one, 
And  lasted  from  twelve  till  four, 
And  what  was  fearful  to  relate, 
We  sank  the  French  Commodore ! 

1  Now  five  sailors  we  picked  up  were  Frenchmen, 
And  six  were  from  haughty  Spain. 
We  picked  them  up  from  off  the  wreck, 
That  had  floated  from  the  main. 
Soon  we'll  send  them  to  proud  France, 
Where  they  had  been  before, 
To  tell  the  proud  French  admiral 
We  sank  his  Commodore." 


The  singer  wound  up  his  song  with  a  lusty 
cadenza  that  made  the  forecastle  fairly  shiver 
with  its  vibrant,  tragic  resonance.  It  was  easy 
to  see  that  Four-decker  considered  himself  entirely 
responsible  for  the  sinking  of  the  Commodore. 
You  would  have  thought  it  his  habit,  had  you 
heard  him  sing,  to  engage  a  foreign  corvette  or 
sloop-of-war  every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes. 

There  was  a  hearty  round  of  applause,  much 
kicking  of  heels  against  sea-chests  and  a  prodi 
gious  clapping  of  hardened  hands,  but  no  verbal 
suggestion  of  an  encore.  A  whaleman  never  dips 
his  colors  to  man-of-war  service. 

It  was  a  trying  moment,  but  Four-decker  was 
quick  to  see  the  dignified  way  of  escape  out  of 
his  embarrassment. 

"Now,  Bilge,"  he  said,  with  an  assumption  of 
fervent  enthusiasm,  "it's  your  trick  at  the  wheel!" 


192  THE    GAM. 

"  Yes,  Bilge/'  shouted  the  Social  Pump,  "  tell 
'em  about  that  '  much-good  '  coffee." 

"  Well,  boys,"  Bilge  Dennet  resumed,  "  we  get 
bully  good  coffee  aboard  o'  this  here  barkie,  an' 
you  can  bet  your  spare  yards  on  that.  An' 
when  them  Ay-rabs  come  on  board  to  trade, 
the  steward,  bless  his  soul,  he'd  lure  the  whole 
school  of  'em  into  the  cabin  an'  treat  'em  to  hot 
coffee  all  round.  An'  that  jolly  flunky  knows 
how  to  mix  the  drink  so  it'll  lift  your  hair  like 
a  flaw  o'  wind.  It's  the  real  thing  —  none  o' 
your  water-bewitched,  I  tell  you !  " 

"  Kind  o'  lives  up  to  the  rule  they  have  in  Ryo 
Janeero,  I  reckon,"  added  the  Experienced  Man, 
parenthetically.  "Jolly  good  rule,  too,  b'gosh!" 

"  What's  that  ?  "  queried  Bilge  Dennett. 

"  Why,  them  yellow-belly  Portugees  say,  '  Cof 
fee,  to  be  Al,  must  be  black  as  night,  strong  as 
death,  an'  hot  as  hell!'  — that's  the  rule,  b'gosh, 
an'  you  can  bet  your  rudder  them  Dagoes  lives  up 
to  it !  " 

"  Ay  aye,"  said  Bilge.  "  that's  the  chart  our 
flunky  sails  by,  bless  his  tarry  soul,  an'  he  never 
let's  the  doctor  touch  the  mixture  when  he  wants 
to  come  out  extra  man-o' -war-fashion.  An'  as  I 
was  sayin',  mess-mates,  them  turban  Ay-rabs  took 
to  it  like  whales  take  to  water. 


THE    GAM.  193 

"  '  Much  good,  much  good  ! '  they'd  say  an* 
hold  out  their  cups  for  more. 

"  Well,  this  sort  o'  thing  made  the  steward 
mighty  popular,  /  tell  you ;  he  could  'a'  been 
king  o'  the  island  any  time  he'd  say  the  word ; 
but  that  everlastin'  coffee  cookin'  got  to  be  a, 
pesky  nuisance,  an'  at  last  the  flunky  hit  on  a 
trick  to  chop  it  off  square. 

"  So  one  day  he  hailed  them  traders  an*  says  to 
'em,  '  Come  down  in  the  cabin,  gents,  an'  splice 
the  main-brace  with  a  cup  of  Al  coffee ! ' 

"  So  down  they  climbs,  every  brown  Alladin's 
son  of  'em,  an'  that  cabin  was  as  full  of  Ay-rabs 
as  the  hold  was  full  of  casks.  An'  then  the  flunky 
serves  out  that  coffee,  made  a-purpose,  bless  his 
spankin'  soul, —  black  an'  hot  an'  strong  —  till  it 
lifted  their  turbans  for  'em  boys,  an'  made  'em 
wiggle  in  their  chairs.  '  Much  good,  much  good, 
much  good  ! '  they  yelled,  an'  the  flunkey  kep' 
a-pourin'  an'  a-pourin'  till  he'd  emptied  the  whole 
blessed  pot. 

"  '  Well,  gents  ',  he  says,  '  did  you  ever  s waller 
such  coffee,  in  all  your  heathen  born  days  ?  Come, 
gents,  did  you  ? '  an'  them  Ay-rabs  says,  4  No, 
most  honorable,  we  never  done  it.' 

"  An'  then,  boys,  what  do  you  think  ?  That 
flunky  runs  a  fork  down  in  the  coffee  pot,  and 


194  THE    GAM. 

claws  'round  in  them  black  grounds,  an'  fishes  out 
a  long  bit  o'  salt  pork  rind,  an'  holds  it  up  front 
o'  their  crazy  top-lights. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  seen  the  hurricane.  That 
shiny  pork  knocked  them  Ay— rabs  alow  an'  aloft. 
They  was  hit  with  the  horrors.  Their  head-lights 
stuck  out  so  you  could  hang  your  hat  on  'em. 
They  turned  from  brown  to  white. 

"  An'  afore  you  could  sing  the  first  line  of 
*  Jack  Robinson  '  the  whole  school  of  'em  tumbled 
up  like  the  watch  below  when  '  all  hands'  is  called. 
Out  them  Ay-rabs  bounced  —  oh,  boys,  it  was 
worth  a  bottle  o'  close-reef  to  see  'em!  They 
scudded  for  the  ship's  side  like  a  dozen  white 
yachts  in  a  gale,  and  there  they  tickled  their  hot- 
copper  gullets  with  their  finger-ends  so  as  to  git 
clear  o'  that  <  much  good '  coffee  !  An'  mateys, 
that  ended  the  coffee  nuisance  for  good  an'  all,  / 
tell  you." 

No  sooner  was  the  story  finished  than  there  was 
a  prodigious  banging  on  the  forecastle  scuttle, 
followed  by  a  sharp  call  of  command.  The 
stranger  crew  were  summoned  on  deck  to  return 
to  their  ship,  and  the  gam  was  over. 

I  have  ever  since  pitied  the  Moslems  of  Johanna 
for  the  treatment  they  must  have  got  from  the 
whalemen  who  were  so  elaborately  coached,  that 
night,  in  the  Clara  Bell's  forecastle. 


jH 


NEW    BEDFORD    \\IIAHF    OK    TO-DAY. 


AUGUSTINE  BAY. 

NOT  a  story  this  time.  Instead,  a  string  of 
stories.  For  things  come  about  at  sea,  as  upon 
land,  without  much  reference  to  literary  values. 
They  simply  occur.  Sometimes  they  are  dramatic ; 
oftener  not.  Sometimes  they  steer  towards  a 
climax;  oftener  they  don't. 

So  this  is  a  plain  account  of  what  happened  — 
an  account  of  what  happened  to  me  and  my  crew 
and  my  ship  when  the  lot  of  us  called  at  Augus 
tine  Bay. 

The  Clara  Bell  had  been  leaking.  It  was  a 
trifle,  said  I  at  first ;  but  now  it  got  worse.  The 
pumps  were  at  it  all  the  while,  not  working  hard, 
but  working.  Clearly,  it  was  time  to  worry. 

Searching  the  damp,  dark  hold,  we  made  out  at 
last  the  treacherous  spot.  There,  against  the 
stern-post,  about  two  feet  below  the  water-line,  we 
found  the  sea-brine  oozing  in. 

I  should  have  called  it  tough  luck,  this  wretched 
obstacle  to  our  voyage,  had  we  not  been  every 
man  Jack  of  us  ready  to  welcome  such  inter 
ruption.  For  our  cruise  was  up.  Port  was  the 
place  for  us,  so  we  put  away. 

Out  of  the  sea  rose  the  green,  luxuriantly 
wooded  Madagascan  coast,  —  within  the  coast  a 


196  AUGUSTINE    BAY. 

lovely  harbor,  the  harbor  of  Augustine  Bay. 
Entering  there,  we  dropped  our  mudhook  off 
Tent  Rock.  Very  well  named,  I  call  that  rock, 
for  it  is  shaped  like  a  tent  and  as  white  as  new 
canvas.  It  is  just  a  mile  from  the  shore. 

I  can't  say  how  it  is  now,  but  in  those  old  days 
whoever  bethought  him  to  land  at  Augustine  Bay 
must  first  make  terms  with  the  savages.  I  knew 
that  the  fuzzy  fellows  would  soon  come  off  to  treat 
with  us.  Accordingly  I  cleared  for  action.  For 
savages  are  thieves,  the  whole  world  over,  and 
whatever  may  be  said  in  favor  of  valor,  dis 
cretion  is  the  better  part  of  holding  your  own. 
Every  dispensable  article  went  below  —  rope, 
spare  belay  ing-pins,  buckets,  craft  —  lest  those 
rogues  should  make  off  with  them. 

Now  I  confess  to  a  weakness  for  dogs,  particu 
larly  for  big  Newfoundland  dogs,  and  most 
particularly  for  my  beloved  black  Rover.  I  was 
bound  that  no  sooty  Madagascan  should  capture 
that  faithful  friend.  I  therefore  shut  Rover  up. 
I  tucked  him  into  my  room  off  the  cabin  and  left 
him  there  for  safe  keeping. 

And  in  that  I  builded  better  than  I  knew. 

Hardly  had  I  got  upon  deck  again  when  the 
canoes,  deeply  laden  with  their  savage  freight, 
came  splashing  for  us.  Then  there  was  a  wild 


AUGUSTINE    BAY.  197 

/ 

scramble  up  the  ship's  side.  The  natives  climbed 
up  over  the  bulwarks  like  ants  out  of  a  broken 
hill.  They  were  terrible  fellows.  They  had  grass 
mats  around  their  loins.  Some  had  arrayed  them 
selves  in  dirty  flannel  shirts.  Their  women  wore 
nondescript  garments  of  cotton  cloth,  and  had 
their  hair  done  up  in  little  knots  like  nutmegs 
and  covered  with  grease. 

We  set  to  business  directly.  The  chief  and  his 
cabinet  —  "big  men,"  they  say  —  followed  me 
down  into  the  cabin,  where  the  pow-wow  began. 
I  wanted  to  land  and  to  recruit  the  Clara  Bell 
with  wood  and  water.  I  wanted  to  buy  that 
privilege  cheap.  They,  on  their  part,  wanted 
cotton  cloth.  They  wanted  all  they  could  get 
of  it.  And  that's  where  we  disagreed. 

Whatever  those  fuzzies  thought  of  my  seaman 
ship,  they  evidently  held  a  very  low  estimate  of 
my  diplomacy  ;  but  in  that  they  were  mistaken. 
For  we  had  gammed  with  a  ship  from  that  very 
port  and  I  knew  the  ropes  like  any  old  sea-dog. 
I  knew  just  how  much  I  ought  to  give,  and  just 
where  I  ought  to  draw  the  line.  The  regulation 
tariff  was  thirty  yards  to  the  chief  and  five 
fathoms  to  each  of  his  advisers.  That  I  offered 
and  there  I  stuck. 

But  time  was  precious  and  I  knew  that,  too. 

T^r»r  T  ha.fl  twn    trihps    t,n    flpnl    wit,h_ 


198 


AUGUSTINE    BAY. 


at  Tent  Rock  could  not  give  me  leave  to  get 
water  at  the  head  of  the  river.  Another  tribe 
from  that  quarter  would  come  along  directly  and 
I  must  get  rid  of  present  company  before  that. 
But  how  the  rascals  hung  on !  They  haggled 
over  prices  hour  after  hour.  They  were  like  a 
batch  of  Soloman  Levis.  Indeed,  I  believe  they 
were  descended  from  the  long-lost  tribes  of  Israel. 

I  was  pretty  well  driven  to  destraction,  when 
suddenly  Rover  burst  the  bonds  of  his  imprison 
ment. 

Out  he  bounded  into  the  cabin  and  then  —  oh, 
lands  and  seas,  how  those  chumps  did  scoot ! 
They  had  never  seen  a  dog  before  !  They  jumped 
out  of  that  cabin  like  electrified  jack-rabbits. 
Rover  followed  hard  and  the  whole  tribe,  save 
only  the  chief,  made  off  over  the  ship's  bows, 
each  one  taking  the  cloth  he  had  held  at  the 
moment  of  Rover's  appearance  —  some  content 
with  only  a  fathom,  others  counting  themselves 
lucky  with  a  strip  three  yards  long. 

As  for  the  chief,  his  knees  were  knocking 
together  and  his  eyes  were  starting  from  their 
sockets.  He  made  terms  in  a  hurry. 

But  when  the  up-river  folk  came  off,  I  had  to 
be  generous.  I  wanted  to  tow  our  raft  of  casks  a 
long  way  up  their  river  to  get  fresh  water,  and  I 


AUGUSTINE    BAY.  199 

was  aware  that  we  should  have  to  wait  over  night 
before  we  could  bring  them  back  to  the  ship.  We 
must  make  fast  friends  with  the  natives  or  they 
would  steal  the  hoops  off  our  casks  and  then,  so 
far  as  practical  purposes  went,  there  wouldn't  be 
any  casks. 

We  made  ourselves  "  solid  "  with  both  chiefs, 
and  according  to  agreement  they  left  a  native 
detective  on  board  to  make  sure  we  were  not 
troubled  with  thieving.  Little  good  came  of  that, 
however,  for  the  detective  was  the  worst  thief  of 
the  lot.  That,  please  observe,  is  saying  a  great 
deal.  The  gift  for  misappropriation  is  nowhere 
more  superbly  developed  than  in  Madagascar. 
And  their  impudence,  combined  with  their  thiev 
ing  —  pity  the  mariner  who  must  restrain  himself 
from  bloodshed  under  such  torment !  No  sort  of 
sanctity  is  proof  against  their  ravages. 

One  day  a  Yankee  clipper  came  to  anchor  in 
the  harbor  with  the  stars  and  stripes  at  her  peak. 

While  the  captain  and  his  officers  were  at  sup 
per,  the  fuzzies  hauled  down  Old  Glory  and  made 
off  with  it.  The  Tent  Rock  chief,  so  I  have 
heard,  had  it  made  up  into  a  suit  of  clothes,  and 
was  seen  by  a  British  crew,  a  few  weeks  later, 
strutting  about  in  it  like  a  coal-tar  Yankee  Doodle. 
But  all  that  happened  after  we  had  left. 


200  AUGUSTINE    BAY. 

Often,  while  we  lay  in  port,  the  up-river  chief 
and  his  dusky  queen  and  their  suite  came  off  to 
visit  us.  We  counted  that  no  serious  affliction, 
for  in  Madagascar  you  can  entertain  royalty  on 
a  very  slender  outlay.  We  would  put  a  huge 
wash-tub  on  the  quarter  deck,  pour  two  or  three 
pails  of  water  into  it,  sweeten  the  water  with  a 
quart  of  molasses,  and  add  ten  or  a  dozen  pounds 
of  ship's  biscuit.  The  royal  cortege  would  squat 
round  the  tub  —  a  guzzling,  grinning,  jabbering 
ring  of  boobies  —  thinking  themselves  lavishly 
entertained. 

Big  fun  we  called  that.  But  that  was  not  our 
only  sport  at  Augustine  Bay.  In  fact  it  was 
as  nothing  beside  our  mischievous  practice  of 
medicine. 

One  day  a  native  came  aboard  clutching  his 
aching  belly,  and  groaning  in  misery.  I  knew 
what  he  wanted,  and  gave  him  a  nip  of  New 
England  rum.  Instantaneous  cure  ! 

Next  day,  however,  Mr.  Fuzzy  came  back  for 
further  treatment.  His  case  was  serious.  He 
said  he  had  been  ill  for  a  year.  One  dose  was 
not  enough  to  eradicate  a  chronic  disorder.  Of 
course  not,  who  ever  said  it  was  ? 

I  therefore  turned  my  patient  over  to  the  mate, 
who  saw  a  chance  to  make  something  out  of  the 


AUGUSTINE   BAY.  201 

Fuzzy' s  weakness.  The  two  hit  on  a  capital 
agreement  —  the  Fuzzy  to  bring  a  bucket  of 
beans  on  board  every  day,  the  mate  to  "cure" 
the  Fuzzy. 

Now  that  mate  of  mine  had  ideas  of  his  own, 
and  this  is  the  series  of  doses  he  gave  that  poor 
heathen :  — 

First  day, —  half-glass  of  rum  and  four  table- 
spoonfuls  castor  oil. 

Second  day, —  hot-drops,  sugar  and  water. 

Third-day, —  vinegar  and  pepper-sauce. 

Fourth  day, —  molasses  and  mustard. 

Fifth  day, —  glass  of  brandy  with  red  pepper. 

Sixth  day, —  cayenne  pepper  and  cheese. 

Seventh  day —  onions,  mustard  and  Chili  sauce. 

Eighth  day, —  rum  and  castor  oil,  same  as 
first  day. 

Ninth  day  —  arnica,  paregoric  and  mustard, 
equal  parts. 

Tenth  day, —  straight  whiskey. 

With  what  result?  The  very  best,  the  very 
best  result  in  the  world.  The  black  beggar  stuck 
it  out  bravely,  patient  to  the  bitter  end.  He 
would  take  his  medicine  with  utter  resignation. 
He  would  twist  his  coarse  face  into  hideous 
grimaces.  He  would  go  away  feeling  as  if  he  had 
swallowed  a  bonfire.  But  when  the  time  expired 


202  AUGUSTINE    BAY. 

he  was  thoroughly  cured.  As  is  commonly  the 
ease,  he  got  well  in  spite  of  his  medicine ! 

Of  course  we  had  the  usual  port  routine  to 
follow  up.  Beside  water  and  wood,  we  laid  in  a 
supply  of  beans  —  much  like  Lima  beans,  and  a 
lot  of  beef  and  mutton.  The  live  beef  was  a  sight. 
The  bullocks  were  large  and  fat,  writh  humps  on 
their  fore-shoulders.  Splendid  fellows  they  were, 
sleek  as  silk,  the  finest  I  ever  saw !  And  the 
prices !  —  you  could  buy  them  for  an  old  flint 
lock  musket  and  a  few  brass-headed  tacks.  (Why 
the  tacks  ?  you  ask.  For  ornament.  The  savages 
pound  them  into  the  wooden  parts  of  their  guns.) 
We  would  purchase  those  bullocks  on  the  shore 
and  then  we  would  swim  them  off  to  the  ship 
and  hoist  them  in  by  their  long  horns. 

Then,  too,  there  was  the  matter  of  the  leak. 
That  had  to  be  attended  to  immediately.  We 
took  the  cargo  out  of  the  after  part  of  the  ship  to 
lighten  her,  and  then  we  found  the  cause  of  the 
trouble. 

There  are  no  accidents  in  the  world  —  never 
were  —  never  will  be.  Everything  has  its  cause, 
and  that  particular  thing,  the  leak,  had  this 
cause  —  the  copper  bottom  had  not  been  securely 
soldered  about  the  stern-post.  Through  the  tiny 
water-course  thus  left  exposed,  the  worms  had  got 


AUGUSTINE   BAY.  203 

in  —  puny  creatures,  so  small  you  could  hardly 
see  them  with  the  naked  eye,  yet  they  had  bored 
those  solid  white-oak  planks  into  a  sieve  like  a 
honey-comb.  A  blow  from  a  hammer  on  the 
worm-eaten  parts  would  crush  the  wood  in  like  an 
egg  shell.  There  was  a  weak  spot,  easily  repaired, 
that  might  have  sent  us  to  Davy  Jones. 

Before  we  left  Augustine  Bay,  a  fine  clipper 
swept  up  the  harbor  and  anchored  near  us,  the 
French  tri-color  at  her  peak.  According  to  the 
best  accounts,  she  had  come  into  port  to  procure 
a  cargo  of  laborers.  Innocent  word  enough,  — 
laborers  !  Ah,  but  she  would  take  them  to  the 
island  of  Bourbon.  There  they  would  be  paid 
twelve  dollars  a  month  for  seven  years'  service. 

And  what  of  that  ?  Just  this :  they  would 
never  be  able  to  buy  their  way  out  of  bondage. 
The  seven  years  up,  they  would  all  be  in  debt  and 
would  have  to  remain  as  slaves,  powerless  even  to 
return  home.  It  was  slavery  in  disguise. 

Out  of  the  remote  interior  of  the  island  came 
that  sombre  procession.  A  slave  trader  had  them 
in  leash.  He  herded  them  all  the  way  to  the 
shore,  and  he  himself  brought  them,  load  after 
load,  aboard  the  French  ship.  Once  on  deck  the 
poor  creatures  were  examined  by  a  sort  of  veteri 
nary,  who  punched  their  breasts,  pinched  their 


204 


AUGUSTINE    BAT. 


limbs  and  eyed  their  teeth  as  if  he  were  apprais 
ing  so  much  horseflesh.  Oh,  it  was  a  horrid  sight ! 
And  I  saw  it  done. 

In  the  midst  of  the  operation  a  man-of-war, 
cruising  for  slavers,  entered  the  harbor.  A  boat 
sped  swiftly  across  the  water,  and  the  officers 
boarded  the  Frenchman.  But  nothing  could  be 
contrived  to  save  the  poor  wretches.  The  French 
man's  papers  were  flawless.  Dastardly  though 
the  fact,  it  was  cloaked  in  a  legal  fiction.  No  one 
had  a  right  to  interfere. 

The  process  of  examination  went  steadily 
forward.  The  young  and  strong  were  taken. 
The  old  and  decrepit  were  rejected.  Lucky, 
indeed,  were  the  physically  unfit. 

When  our  repairs  were  done  and  all  supplies 
got  in  and  stowed  down,  we  took  our  mudhook 
and  put  to  sea,  beating  out  of  Augustine  Bay  in 
the  early  afternoon. 

Down  into  the  southern  sea  sank  those  pleasant 
shores,  slowly  and  almost  reluctantly,  but  bold 
against  the  far  horizon  we  could  still  see  the 
ugly  form  of  the  slaver,  swift  upon  her  way 
toward  Bourbon. 


THE  ALBATROSS. 


"  God  save  thee,  Ancient  Mariner, 

From  the  fiends  that  plague  thee  thus ! 
Why  looks  thou  so  ?    With  my  cross-bow 
I  shot  the  Albatross." 

—  Coleridge. 


"  Cap'n  Robbins,  I  beg  you,  don't !  " 

"Don't—?" 

"Don't  kill  the  albatross." 

"  And,  pray,  why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  the  mate  of  the  Thomas  Popey 
"  it's  well  known,  sir,  that  terrible  consequences 
follow  the  murder  of  one  of  those  white  birds.  I 
say  murder — for  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  it's  nothing 
less.  Haven't  you  heard  that  the  souls  of  dead 
bo's'ns  and  sailors  go  soaring  about  in  these 
latitudes  in  the  form  of  albatrosses  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,''  I  answered,  "  You  see  I  never 
lived  in  the  fo'c's'le,  Mr.  Russell.  My  first  voyage 
I  shipped  as  cabin-boy,  and  my  second  voyage  I 
went  as  third  mate  in  the  old  Balaena.  So,  you 
see,  I  never  got  much  acquainted  with  the  fo'c's'le 
superstitions." 

"What!"  Russell  exclaimed,  "has  no  one 
ever  told  you  how  dangerous  it  is  to  kill  an 
albatross  ?  " 


206 


THE   ALBATROSS. 


Preparations  for  albatross-catching  were  already 
going  bravely  forward  in  the  waist.  The  sailors 
were  busy  rigging  a  long,  stout  fish-line  with  a 
big  cod-hook  at  the  end.  They  were  getting  a 
liberal  slice  of  salt-pork  to  bait  the  hook.  That 
never  fails. 

"  Well,"  said  my  mate,  "  I  notice  that  my 
opinions  don't  weigh  any  too  heavy  with  you; 
but  tell  me,  sir,  have  you  ever  killed  an  albatross 
before?" 

"  Lots  of  them.  Last  time  I  was  rounding  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  I  killed  half-a-dozen.  Why, 
if  I'm  not  mistaken,  it  was  only  a  few  searmiles 
from  where  we  are  just  now." 

"And  no  unpleasant  consequence  followed  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  to  be  frank  with  you,  I  did  come 
near  losing  rny  ship  within  a  few  days  after  that." 

"  See,"  said  Russell,  "  see  how  that  bird  hovers 
over  the  main-mast  truck  !  The  creature  must 
measure  at  least  ten  feet  across  those  wings! 
And  think  of  it,  sir,  the  albatross  has  followed 
us  for  three  days  now  —  or  is  it  four  ?  But 
pardon  the  interruption  —  what  was  that  about 
all  but  losing  your  ship  ? " 

"  Why,  it  was  on  one  of  my  voyages  homeward 
from  the  Indian  Ocean.  We  were  lying  to  in  a 
gale.  And  all  of  a  sudden  the  wind  changed  and 


THE    ALBATROSS.  207 

brought  us  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  so  that  we 
were  forced  to  wear  ship  to  keep  our  decks  from 
being  swept  of  everything  and  losing  our  boats. 
'  Meet  her  when  she  shakes/  the  mate  shouted, 
6  full  for  stays ! '  But  when  the  wheel  was  put 
up,  and  the  ship  had  gathered  headway,  a  great, 
rolling  swell  caught  her  bodily,  and  turned  her 
over  on  her  beam-ends.  There  we  lay,  apparently 
undecided  which  way  to  go,  trucks  up  or  keel  up. 
I  lived  twenty  years  in  twenty  seconds  !  Then 
the  awful  moments  of  suspense  went  by.  The 
ship  righted  herself  angrily  —  mad  as  a  whale 
in  his  flurry  —  and  we  came  round  breasting 
the  sea!" 

"  A  marvellous  escape  !  "  Russell  observed,  with 
the  air  of  a  mathematician  about  to  say  Q.  E.  D. 

"  Yes,  a  marvellous  escape  !  Many  a  good 
stanch  hooker  has  gone  to  Davy  Jones  just  that 
way.  I  was  lucky  to  have  a  long-legged  ship. 
If  she  had  been  one  of  those  round-ribbed,  flat- 
bottomed  butter-boxes  they  build  by  the  mile 
down  in  Maine  and  saw  off  any  length  you 
order,  we  should  surely  have  turned  turtle  and 
never  been  heard  from  again  !  " 

"  Aha  !  "  said  Russell,  with  a  twinkle  of  triumph 
in  his  little  black  eyes,  "  Seems  to  me  your  own 
experience  confirms  the  truth  of  my  convictions  !  " 


208  THE    ALBATROSS. 

"0,  not  at  all ! "  I  answered.  "If  my  logic 
serves  me  well,  all  it  proves  is  that  when  you  get 
into  a  mighty  bad  scrape  you  get  out  of  it  unhurt. 
If  killing  albatrosses  has  anything  to  do  with  that, 
why,  where' s  the  harm  of  killing  them  ?  It 
strikes  me,  Mr.  Russell,  we'd  better  take  special 
pains  to  kill  a  few  birds,  you  and  I,  (or  murder, 
them,  if  you  prefer),  as  a  precautionary  measure ! 
At  any  rate,  we'll  have  that  big  bird  yonder,  I 
reckon,  the  very  next  swoop  he  makes.  These 
bo's'ns'  ghosts  of  yours  don't  show  any  very 
dainty  taste  in  the  bait  they  snap  at  —  eh,  Mr. 
Russell?" 

Russell  was  about  to  venture  a  reply,  when 
suddenly,  just  as  I  had  predicted,  the  albatross 
swooped  down  upon  that  irresistible  bait  of  salt 
pork.  The  hook  took  a  cruel  hold  in  the  big 
fowl's  throat.  The  line  was  stretched  taut.  You 
would  have  thought  the  bird  would  break  his  long 
swan-neck,  he  struggled  so  madly  to  be  free. 
Four  men  held  the  line  ;  they  hauled  it  in  ;  they 
grappled  with  the  albatross  and  they  killed  him. 

The  mate  stood  horrified.  His  hands  were 
thrust  deep  in  the  pockets  of  his  blue  round 
about;  they  twitched  nervously.  His  mouth 
tightened  at  the  corners  and  made  deep  wrinkles 
in  his  yellow  checks.  He  turned  to  me  with  a 


THE   ALBATROSS.  209 

look  of  outraged  anxiety  and  spoke  tremulously, 
"  Cap'n  Bobbins,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  all  be  very 
sorry  for  this  —  very,  very  sorry,  and  that  not 
many  days  from  now  !  " 

"  As  for  the  truth  of  that  cheerful  prophecy," 
I  answered,  "  it's  more  a  matter  of  fact  than  of 
opinion.  Let  us  wait  and  see !  "  pleasantly 
enough  I  smiled  as  I  spoke,  but  Russell's  frown 
grew  only  the  gloomier. 

The  albatross  found  his  way  in  time  into  the 
cook's  coppers  and  thence  at  dinner-hour,  albeit  a 
trifle  tardy,  into  the  cabin.  He  was  served  in  a 
delicious  sea-pie,  though  my  wife,  who  was  then 
upon  her  first  voyage,  and  by  no  means  the  tall- 
water  epicure  she  afterward  became,  pronounced 
him  decidedly  strong  and  fishy. 

I  watched  the  mate  closely,  not  a  little  curious 
to  see  how  he  would  behave.  He  was  ashamed 
not  to  take  his  portion  of  that  double-decker  pie 
upon  his  plate,  but  I  noticed  that  he  contented 
himself  with  nibbling  the  potatoes  and  onions  that 
went  with  the  meat,  while  of  the  meat  itself  he 
never  tasted  the  tiniest  morsel.  His  objections, 
forsooth,  were  conscientious.  He  was  not  going 
to  incur  the  guilt  of  cannibalism. 

"  Russell,"  I  said,  "  we  were  speaking  of  the 
possible  consequences  of  killing  an  albatross,  you 


210  THE    ALBATROSS. 

remember,  and  I  told  you  this  morning  that  I  had 
only  one  experience  to  judge  by.  That  is  hardly 
true.  There  was  another  occasion  I  ought  to 
have  mentioned." 

"And  that  was? " 

"  A  most  extraordinary  occurence,  Mr.  Russell. 
I  was  coming  home  from  one  of  my  merchant 
voyages.  The  ship  was  nearing  the  Gulf  Stream 
on  her  course  from  Pernambuco.  A  heavy  sou'- 
west  gale  was  blowing,  and  the  old  girl  was 
running  under  close-reefed  main  -  top  -  sail  and 
fore-sail. 

"We  entered  the  Gulf  Stream  about  midnight. 
The  wind  died  out  to  a  calm.  Heavy,  oily,  black 
clouds  piled  up  in  the  nor'-east  and  covered  the 
sky  till  it  was  dark  as  the  ship's  run.  I  thought 
the  wind  would  come  from  that  direction  and 
strike  the  ship  aback,  so  I  called  all  hands  to  take 
in  main-top-s'l  and  fore-s'l.  You  know  merchant 
ships  go  with  such  stingy  crews  it  leaves  you 
short-handed  at  a  time  like  that.  Consequently  I 
had  to  take  the  wheel. 

"  The  men  had  got  hold  of  the  clew-lines  and 
buntxlines,  and  were  about  to  start  the  sheets, 
when  there  was  a  sudden  flash  in  the  sou'-west 
and  a  ball  of  blazing  fire  as  big  as  a  man's  head 
leaped  out  of  the  clouds.  It  dashed  across  the 


THE    ALBATROSS.  211 

sky.  It  made  for  our  ship.  It  started  at  an  angle 
of  forty-five  degrees,  and  it  modified  its  course 
into  a  curving  line  like  part  of  an  ellipse.  A 
trail  of  fire  followed  it.  It  struck  the  main-top- 
m'st  just  above  the  cap  on  the  head  of  the 
main-m'st  and  exploded  with  a  report  like  that  of 
a  rifle.  The  sparks  flew  into  the  belly  of  the 
main-top-s'l.  The  light  blinded  my  eyes. 

"  As  soon  as  I  could  see  again,  I  looked  for  my 
men.  They  had  all  tumbled  out  of  sight.  I 
locked  the  wheel  and  went  for'ard.  There  I 
found  the  crew  lying  on  the  deck  in  the  ship's 
waist  —  senseless  every  man  Jack  of  them.  After 
a  few  minutes  they  all  came  to  but  one.  He  was 
a  young  Portuguese.  We  carried  him  down  into 
the  cabin  and  rubbed  him  and  dosed  him  and  put 
smelling-salts  under  his  nose,  and  at  last  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  said,  '  Bono  Dio,  Cap,  I  don't 
want  see  all-same- that  again  ! ' 

u  In  the  morning  I  examined  the  mast  with  the 
utmost  care,  but  I  could  find  nowhere  any  mark 
left  by  that  flying  ball  of  flame.  The  thing  was 
evidently  a  sort  of  '  St.  Elmo's  Fire ' ;  but  you 
may  imagine  my  horror  when  I  found  my  crew 
all  unconscious.  Heavens !  I  thought  for  a 
moment  that  I  was  the  only  live  man  left  aboard 
that  ship !  " 


212  THE    ALBATEOSS. 

"  Yes/'  said  Russell,  "  I  have  read  of  such 
things,  and  I  knew  a  man  once  who  had  seen  one. 
He  called  it  a  corposant  —  or  compresent,  some 
say ;  but  what  puzzles  me,  Cap'n  Robbins,  is  to 
see  what  sort  of  connection  there  is  between  a 
ball  of  electric  fire  in  the  Gulf  Stream  and  the 
killing  of  an  albatross.  I  never  heard  of  albatrosses 
in  those  latitudes,  did  you,  sir  ?  " 

"No,  hardly,"  I  answered,  "but  since  you've 
begun  to  enlighten  me,  I  am  inclined  to  attribute 
that  occurrence  to  an  albatross  I  had  '  murdered  * 
three  years  before  !  " 

Russell  munched  his  onions  and  potatoes  in 
silence.  I  hope  he  enjoyed  them.  The  conversa 
tion  lapsed ;  the  meal  was  nearly  done  before  it 
revived  again. 

The  next  day,  —  according  to  my  log-book  it 
was  the  twentieth  of  November,  back  in  fifty- 
nine, —  we  were  struck  by  a  furious  gale,  the 
first  real  storm  since  the  voyage  began.  Our 
little  bark  scudded  under  close-reefed  main-top 
sail  and  fore-sail  before  a  fierce  sou'west  wind. 
Albatross  or  no  albatross,  it  was  blowing  great 
guns.  The  ship  labored  frightfully.  The  green 
hand  at  the  helm  would  let  her  come  to  a  little 
now  and  then,  and  every  time  he  did  it,  she 
would  take  a  sea  in  the  waist  with  a  noise  like 


THE    ALBATROSS.  213 

thunder.  I  had  to  watch  him  as  you  watch  a 
madman. 

At  seven  bells  that  morning,  the  steward  had 
got  the  racks  on  the  table,  and  was  putting  our 
breakfast  in  readiness.  I  was  below  at  the 
moment.  The  ship  was  pitching  and  heaving  till 
I  thought  she  would  jump  the  sticks  out  of  her. 
Suddenly  she  brought  a  tremendous  roll  to  star 
board.  I  shouted  to  the  cabin-boy,  "  Look  out  for 
the  table ! "  but  the  words  were  no  more  than 
spoken  when  everything  slid  off  on  to  the  floor 
with  forty  different  kinds  of  jingles  and  crashes 
all  at  once.  My  wife  shrieked  with  terror ;  she 
thought  we  were  wrecked ;  she  rushed  from  the 
state-room  in  her  night-gown,  and  just  at  that 
moment  a  monstrous  wave  pooped  the  Thomas 
Pope,  and  burst  over  the  ship's  port  quarter. 
Tons  of  salt  water  came  pounding  through  the 
sky-light  into  the  after-cabin,  and  Mrs.  Bobbins 
arrived  upon  the  scene  at  the  one  happy  moment 
when  she  would  get  the  full  benefit  of  it.  That 
sea-going  wife  of  mine  has  no  taste  for  immer 
sion  ;  but  on  that  memorable  morning  she  could 
not  choose  but  submit.  As  I  said  at  the  time, 
that  big,  cold  billow  baptized  her  for  the 
Indian  Ocean. 

I  was  glad,  a  few  days  later,  that  it  had  done 
so,  for  after  so  tremendous  an  initiation  she  never 


214  THE   ALBATROSS. 

again  suffered  any  fear.  I  think  she  regarded 
herself  as  one  who  had  endured  the  worst  there 
was  to  endure,  and  resolved  not  to  be  annoyed  by 
trifles  thereafter. 

We  rounded  the  Cape,  and  then  the  weather 
became  more  pleasant.  We  steered  for  the 
Mozambique  Channel,  keeping  the  watch  on  deck 
busy  preparing  craft  and  cutting-gear  for  whaling. 
We  might  see  whales  at  any  time  now. 

Since  that  roaring  gale  off  the  Cape,  the  chief 
mate  had  never  mentioned  the  albatross.  But  I 
could,  nevertheless,  see  that  his  mind  was  not  at 
rest.  He  thought  albatross,  dreamed  albatross, 
and,  as  I  thought,  even  looked  albatross.  When 
the  weather  moderated  and  came  off  warm  and 
pleasant  with  favorable  winds,  I  watched  him 
with  a  curious  interest.  A  last  I  broached  the 
matter  myself. 

"  Mr.  Russell,"  I  said,  "  it  strikes  me  we  're 
going  to  come  off  alive  after  all,  spite  of  that 
cannibal  pot-pie ! " 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Cap'n  Bobbins,"  he  answered, 
unmistakably  nettled,  "  we  're  not  home  yet ! 
No,  sir,  not  by  a  long  sea  mile  !  " 

No  sooner  had  he  spoken  those  ominous  words 
than  I  observed  a  huge  rolling  swell,  miles  in 
extent,  and  straight  as  the  spanker-boom,  coming 


THE    ALBATROSS.  215 

down  upon  us  from  the  north' ard.  The  wind  had 
died  out  to  a  flat  calm.  There  was  not  a  ripple 
of  white  water  under  the  ship's  fore-foot.  There 
was  not  a  streak  of  foam  nor  so  much  as  a  bubble 
in  her  wake.  It  was  an  Irishman's  tempest, 
straight  up  and  down  !  The  air  was  hazy,  sultry, 
and  almost  unbearably  hot.  There  could  then  be 
but  one  meaning  in  the  powerful  swell  that 
bore  down  upon  the  Thomas  Pope.  To  the 
northward,  just  beyond  that  peaceful  horizon, 
a  hurricane  was  raging.  The  roller  had  been 
sent  out  by  it. 

A  ripple  rushes  out  from  a  stone  dropped  in  a 
mill-pond.  That  roller  was  the  ripple  magnified 
to  sublime  proportions. 

Another  roller  —  another !  Then,  quicker  than 
the  first  three,  still  another !  And  as  yet  no 
faintest  flaw  of  wind! 

We  were  trapped.  The  albatross  would  be 
avenged,  and  Russell  vindicated. 

We  were  then  about  in  the  middle  of  Mozam 
bique  Channel.  Madagascar  was  some  three 
hundred  miles  to  the  eastward,  and  the  coast 
of  Africa  about  the  same  distance  off  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

For  a  day  and  a  night  the  flat  calm  continued. 
Then  a  light  breeze  sprang  up  from  the  sou' east. 


216  THE   ALBATROSS. 

All  the  afternoon  the  wind  increased,  first  grad 
ually,  then  rapidly,  so  rapidly  that  at  sundown  we 
had  the  Pope  under  storm  canvas  —  close-reefed 
top-sails  and  reefed  foresail.  The  wind  kept  fresh 
ening.  It  veered  steadily  toward  the  east.  It 
raged  with  increasing  fury,  a  fresh  hand  at  the 
bellows.  The  ship  was  talking  loudly — pitching 
and  pounding — bobbing  at  it  with  a  will.  At  ten 
o'clock  it  was  blowing  a  furious  gale.  We  had 
got  in  all  sail,  save  close-reef  main-top-sail  and 
reefed  fore-sail.  At  midnight  matters  grew  worse. 
We  got  the  Pope  under  main-spencer  and  fore- 
top-mast-stay-saiL  The  wind  was  blowing  with 
maddened  frenzy.  The  ship  was  over  on  her 
beam  ends,  with  larboard  rails  and  three  boats 
under  water. 

I  called  all  hands  to  batten  down  the  hatches. 
We  stretched  the  tarpaulins  tight  across  them  and 
we  nailed  the  battens  fast  to  the  coamings  and 
head-ledges. 

By  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  spencers 
and  fore-top-mast  stay-sails  had  blown  away.  The 
sails  on  the  yards  wTere  working  loose  from  under 
the  gaskets.  I  sent  men  into  the  rigging  to 
secure  them,  but  they  could  not  get  aloft.  When 
they  were  about  ten  feet  up,  the  wind  pinned 
them  tight  against  the  ratlines.  They  were  like 


THE    ALBATROSS.  217 

dead  men.  I  shouted  to  them  to  come  back,  but 
the  wind  carried  the  sound  away.  You  could  not 
have  made  them  hear  with  a  trumpet.  I  waved 
my  arms  at  them  and  they  struggled  down  on 
deck  and  made  their  way  aft  with  ducked  heads, 
coming  hand  over  hand,  clinging  to  the  belaying 
pins  along  the  starboard  bulwarks. 

The  storm  had  its  way.  The  sails  blew  out 
from  under  the  gaskets.  They  were  nearly  new 
canvas,  but  they  were  blown  into  strips  like 
ribbons.  The  ship  shook  with  a  frightful  tremor. 

The  wind  was  blowing  with  such  force  that  the 
sea  could  not  rise.  Instead,  it  was  rolling  over 
with  a  white  foam;  and  the  foam,  as  it  dashed 
against  the  weather  side  of  the  ship,  would  send  a 
spray  over  us  like  fine,  drifting  snow. 

It  was  full  moon,  and  that  heightened  the 
terror.  It  made  the  dangers  visible  and  invisible 
by  turns,  for  clouds  rushed  over  our  heads  with 
frightful  rapidity.  They  were  very  low  —  so  low 
it  seemed  as  if  we  could  reach  them.  They  were 
like  frightened  spirits  fleeing  from  the  wrath  of 
the  storm-god  ! 

The  cargo  was  secured  with  billets  of  wood,  so 
I  had  no  fears  on  that  score.  There  was  no 
danger  of  its  shifting.  The  real  peril  was  the 
chance  of  being  blown  ashore  on  the  coast  of 


218  THE   ALBATROSS. 

Africa,  and  losing  our  lives  in  the  surf ;  but  the 
wind  kept  veering  and  that  held  us  off. 

The  hurricane  increased  in  fury  until  the  ship 
was  pressed  bodily  down  into  the  water  and  held 
there. 

Resolving  to  make  sacrifices  to  save  our  lives,  I 
ordered  the  top-mast  back-stays  cut  away,  and 
when  that  was  done  the  masts  went  crashing  over 
the  ship's  sides,  carrying  everything  aloft  with 
them.  They  lay  thumping  against  the  vessel 
till  I  thought  they  would  stave  her  side  in. 
To  prevent  this,  I  ordered  all  the  lee  rigging 
cut  away. 

The  men  started  from  the  hurricane-house. 
Six  had  knives  and  axes,  and  each  of  them 
had  a  rope  round  his  waist.  Six  others  had 
hold  of  the  ropes,  and  clung  to  any  stable 
thing  they  could  reach  —  some  grasping  the 
weather  lash-rail,  some  seizing  hold  of  the  sky 
light,  and  one  taking  a  turn  round  the  stump  of 
the  mizzen-mast  —  while  the  men  with  the  axes 
and  boarding-knives  went  down  the  sloping  deck ; 
and,  standing  in  water  up  to  their  waists,  hacked 
at  the  rigging.  The  wind  blew  so  powerfully 
that  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  swing  an  axe. 
Most  of  the  work  was  done  with  knives. 

Even  the  sacrifice  of  all  three  masts  seemed  to 
have  no  effect  toward  easing  the  ship.  No  sooner 


THE   ALBATROSS.  219 

had  my  men  crawled  back  under  the  hurricane- 
house  than  a  tremendous  breaching  sea  boarded 
us  over  the  weather  side  the  whole  length  of  the 
vessel,  staving  bulwarks  and  clearing  everything 
off  deck  —  lee  boats,  craft,  oars,  everything  but 
our  try-works,  weather  boat  and  cook's  galley. 

The  hurricane  continued  with  unabated  fury 
until  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning.  Then  it 
steadily  died  out,  and  at  noon  it  was  nearly  calm. 
But  as  the  wind  went  down  the  sea  came  up.  The 
waves  rose  to  a  dizzy  height. 

Despite  the  difficulty  in  keeping  our  footing  — 
for  the  ship  tossed  and  rolled  helplessly  with  not 
a  stitch  of  canvas  to  steady  her  —  all  hands  were 
busy  clearing  away  the  wreck,  for  a  tangle  of 
rigging  still  remained,  and  there  were  several 
spars  alongside,  though  fortunately  none  of  them 
end-on. 

There  was  a  calm  for  the  space  of  four  hours, 
and  during  that  calm  the  ship  was  covered  with 
birds,  which  had  been  blown  off  from  the  land  — 
gulls,  hawks,  boobies,  parrots,  cockatoos,  cranes 
and  pheasants  —  bright-colored  waifs,  wearied  with 
the  storm  and  so  eager  for  a  place  to  rest  that 
they  forgot  their  natural  fears  of  one  another  and 
of  human  kind.  They  perched  on  the  tops  of 
the  broken  masts ;  they  sat  upon  the  dismantled 


220 


THE    ALBATROSS. 


stanchions;  they  crowded  the  rail  —  where  any 
rail  remained ;  they  swarmed  in  a  many-tinted 
flock  upon  the  shattered  skylight ;  they  lit  upon 
our  heads  and  shoulders.  It  was  calm  because 
we  were  then  in  the  centre  of  a  revolving  storm. 
The  birds  had  sought  its  centre  by  instinct. 

At  half-past  four  the  wind  began  blowing  again 
with  terrific  force  from  the  west.  The  starboard 
rail  and  the  one  boat  left  on  the  cranes  went 
under  water.  When  the  ship  began  to  rise  it 
took  the  boat  off.  We  had  the  full  power  of  the 
hurricane  until  noon  the  next  day,  and  all  that 
while  we  were  entirely  helpless  and  lay  at  the 
mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves,  all  hands  aft  under 
the  house  for  safety. 

Now,  ever  since  the  storm  began,  my  wife  and 
children  had  been  lying  below  in  her  stateroom  in 
utter  darkness.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  a  light 
burning ;  and  when  the  mizzen-mast  went  over 
the  side,  it  smashed  the  skylight  and  we  had  to 
batten  it  down  as  you  do  the  hatches. 

Every  little  while  I  would  go  below  to  the 
cabin  and  ask  Mrs.  Bobbins  if  she  wanted  me  to 
stay  with  her,  but  she  insisted  I  must  remain 
on  deck. 

"  We  are  safe  in  God's  hands,"  she  said,  "  and 
He  will  care  for  us  and  do  what  is  best  for  us  all." 


THE   ALBATROSS.  221 

Her  courage  was  magnificent.  She  seemed  to 
have  no  anxiety  for  herself.  All  her  fears  were 
for  the  poor  sailors  on  deck.  She  urged  that  I 
must  be  there  "  to  save  them  from  being  washed 
overboard.'' 

One  of  the  children,  tired  and  restless  from  lack 
of  sleep,  piped  up,  "  Papa,  why  doesn'  t  God  make 
the  wind  stop  blowing  ?  " 

Once,  when  the  wind  was  raging  its  worst,  the 
second  mate  came  up  to  me  and  said,  "  Cap'n,  I 
must  go  below  —  I've  taken  a  terrible  tumble  and 
almost  broken  my  back  !  " 

I  knew  the  man  was  lying ;  but  as  he  was 
too  frightened  to  be  of  any  use  on  deck,  and  as 
he  might  possibly  be  some  company  for  my  wife, 
I  sent  him  below. 

There  the  fellow  dropped  on  his  knees  upon  the 
cabin  floor  and  began  to  pray  for  his  "  dear  wife 
at  home!"  That  was  too  much  for  Mrs.  Bobbins, 
and  she  giggled  outright. 

"  Mr.  Simpkins,"  she  cried,  "  it  seems  to  me 
you'd  show  more  sense  to  pray  for  the  folks  in 
peril  for  their  lives  aboard  this  wreck,  instead  of 
praying  for  a  dear  lady  seven  thousand  miles 
away  on  dry  land ! "  After  that  the  officer 
prayed  in  silence  or  not  at  all. 

Ever  since  the  hurricane  began,  and  it  had  now 
been  raffing  for  forty-eight  hours,  I  had  fed  my 


222  THE   ALBATROSS. 

men  on  canned  provisions  I  had  brought  for  the 
cabin  table.  Lucky  dogs  they  were  to  get  a 
mouthful !  Cooking  was  out  of  the  question. 
But  now,  as  the  weather  moderated,  Mrs.  Robbins 
came  to  our  relief.  With  the  aid  of  her  little 
alcohol  lamp  she  made  coffee  for  those  sorry 
toilers  of  the  sea  —  the  strongest  coffee  and  the 
best,  said  one  and  all  that  had  ever  been  boiled 
aboard  a  wrecked  blubber-hunter ! 

When,  at  last,  the  wind  hauled  to  the  south  and 
died  away  and  the  tempest  was  over,  we  began  to 
take  account  of  stock.  As  O'Hoolihan  has  it,  we 
stood  off  and  looked  at  ourselves.  We  counted 
our  bruises. 

Merciless  Neptune,  what  a  finding  !  Jib-boom 
gone  at  the  cap  on  the  bow-sprit ;  fore-mast 
broken  away  at  the  eyes  of  the  rigging,  turning 
the  fore-top  over  till  the  cross-trees  pointed  to  the 
zenith ;  main-mast  snapped  off  at  the  head ; 
mizzen-mast  gone,  save  a  wretched  stump  about 
seven  feet  tall;  bulwarks  and  rails  shattered; 
and  five  of  our  six  boats  missing  ! 

What  a  frightful  change  had  come  over  that 
poor,  storm-stricken  ship  !  A  handsome,  well- 
found  barky  she  had  been  only  two  days  before  — 
taut  and  in  perfect  trim,  "  man-o'-war  fashion," 
as  sailors  say  —  but  now  she  was  a  pitiable, 


"LADDER  HILL"  AT  ST.  HELENA. 


THE   ALBATKOSS.  223 

dismantled  wreck,  though,  thanks  to  the  faith 
fulness  of  her  builders,  her  stanch  live-oak  hull 
was  sound  and  tight. 

That  cabin  of  ours  was  a  sight  to  behold.  It 
was  a  week  before  we  could  make  it  a  decent 
place  to  live  in,  for  everything  was  drenched  with 
salt  water  ;  and  the  two  harness-casks,  containing 
salted  beef  and  pork  and  pickles,  had  worked  out 
of  their  lashings  and  emptied  their  savory  con 
tents  down  the  sky-light  into  the  cabin.  Mrs. 
Robbins  thought  it  was  "much  nicer  to  keep 
house  on  land." 

But  we  were  safe  and  sound,  every  one  of  us. 
Even  the  "  injured "  second  mate,  who  was 
obliged  to  go  below  on  account  of  the  "  terrible 
tumble ''  he  had  taken,  had  now  recovered  the 
use  of  his  spine.  Furthermore,  we  were  well 
provisioned.  We  had  food  enough  and  water 
enough  to  last  us  till  we  could  reach  some 
civilized  port  and  refit  the  Pope.  It  might  be  a 
tedious  passage,  but  we  had  nothing  in  particular 
to  be  afraid  of  —  considering. 

So  we  made  the  best  of  a  bad  matter.  We 
rigged  up  jury-masts,  and  in  a  week's  time  we 
were  able  to  set  top-sails  and  courses,  jib  and 
spanker. 

I  was  puzzled  at  first  to  know  what  port  to 
make  for.  If  we  kept  on  our  course  to  the 


224  THE    ALBATROSS. 

northward,  we  should  have  favorable  winds ;  but 
I  could  think  of  no  port  in  that  direction  where 
we  could  be  sure  of  getting  spars  and  whale-boats 
and  rigging.  In  fact,  the  only  port  really  to  be 
considered  was  Mauritius.  So  thither  we  turned, 
keeping  the  ship  headed  to  the  southward,  and 
beat  around  the  south  of  Madagascar.  Forty 
days  after  the  hurricane  we  sighted  the  Mauritian 
harbor  of  Port  Louis.  Considering  that  the  Pope 
was  a  wrecked  ship  under  frail  jury-masts,  and 
considering  also  that  we  had  to  contend  against 
rugged  weather  nearly  all  the  way,  I  thought  that 
I  had  done  my  duty  faithfully  and  succeeded 
triumphantly. 

As  we  were  limping  into  port,  Russell  came  up 
to  me  with  an  insinuating  look  in  his  sly  little 
eyes.  "  Cap'n  Bobbins,"  he  said,  "if  you  will 
pardon  me,  I  have  something  unpleasant  to  say  to 
you.  I  think  it  only  just  to  myself  to  insist  that 
if  you  had  taken  my  advice  we  should  not  now  be 
putting  into  Port  Louis  for  repairs  !  " 

"  What  advice,  pray  ?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember  ?  I  mean  my 
advice  about  the  albatross,  of  course  —  the  poor, 
white  murdered  albatross.  Have  you  forgotten 
that  when  you  insisted  upon  having  that  bird 
killed  I  said,  '  Cap'n  Bobbins,  we  shall  all  be  very 
sorry  for  this  ?  '  " 


THE   ALBATROSS.  225 

"  Russell !  "  I  shouted,  forgetting  in  my  amuse- 
ment  to  give  my  mate  his  "  Mister,"  "  what  on 
earth  do  you  mean  by  thrusting  a  lubberly  fc's'le 
superstition  into  the  face  of  the  master  of  a  ship  ? 
Whaling  cap'ns  don't  know  —  poor,  grass-combing 
waisters  !  But  before  the  mast — oh,  that's  the 
place  to  look  for  erudition !  Oh,  yes !  That's  the 
place  to  find  the  true  navigator!  That's  the 
place,  and  not  the  quarter-deck  !  " 

Russell  turned  a  paler  shade  of  yellow  than 
usual  —  he  was  thoroughly  scared. 

"  But,  Cap'n,  in  justice  to  myself,  I  must  insist 
that  the  fact  about  the  albatross  rests  upon 
surer  ground  than  any  mere  fo'c's'le  gossip.  I 
have  it,  sir,  upon  the  authority  of  Coleridge  !  " 

"  Coleridge  !  "  I  bellowed,  in  a  voice  that  would 
have  quelled  a  mutiny. 

"  Yes,  Coleridge." 

"  What  Coleridge  ?  " 

"  Why,  Coleridge  the  writer." 

"  Writer  on  navigation  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  no,  of  course  not.  I  mean  the  writer 
of  poetry." 

"  Not  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  ?  Thunder  and 
lightning,  what  a  first  mate!  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge  ?  And  you  have  the  lordly  impudence 
to  thrust  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  into  the  face 


226  THE   ALBATROSS. 

of  the  master  of  a  New  Bedford  whaler !  By 
George,  you  deserve  to  be  —  !  " 

But  I  turned  on  my  heel  and  trod  the  quarter 
deck  in  silence.  Already  a  tug-boat  was  coming 
out  to  meet  us.  She  came  alongside,  haggled 
as  usual,  closed  the  bargain,  and  took  our  line. 
As  soon  as  we  were  well  under  way  again,  I 
approached  Russell  once  more.  I  tried  to  acquire 
an  insinuating,  Russell-like  look  in  my  own  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Russell,"  I  began,  "  if  you  will  pardon 
me,  I  have  something  unpleasant  to  say  to  you. 
I  think  it  only  just  to  myself  to  insist  that,  if  you 
take  my  advice,  you'll  save  wear  and  tear  on  your 
nervous  constitution  by  bidding  a  fond  adieu  to 
this  nonsense.  Come  !  You're  an  officer  nowr. 
Just  shake  yourself  free  of  the  fo'c's'le.  And  I 
tell  you,  too,  Mr.  Russell,  that  it  rests  on  better 
authority  than  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge.  It  rests 
on  the  authority  of  a  good  seaman  !  "  (Laughing 
in  my  sleeve.) 

Poor,  humiliated  Russell !  He  wriggled  in  his 
roundabout  and  grew  yellower  than  before.  He 
looked  like  a  bilious  Cape  Codder. 

"  Why,  Charles ! "  called  a  gentle  voice  from 
the  cabin  doorway,  "you're  not  going  to  dis 
charge  Mr.  Russell  because  he  believes  in  the 
'  Ancient  Mariner ! '  " 


THE   ALBATROSS.  227 

It  was  my  wife.  She  had  been  down  below, 
preparing  our  "  long  togs  "  to  go  ashore,  and  now 
she  had  come  on  deck  just  in  time  to  overhear  my 
remarks  to  Kussell. 

"  Hannah,  my  dear,"  said  I,  "  Mr.  Russell  is  by 
no  means  discharged.  I  beg  you,  don't  worry ! 
Mr.  Russell  is  the  best  mate  I  ever  had  in  all  my 
sea-faring  days,  only  he's  capable  of  improve 
ment  yet.  And  as  for  the  albatross  —  his  poor, 
4  murdered'  albatross  —  'seems  to  me  you've  got 
those  wings  somewhere,  haven't  you  ?  Well, 
we'll  make  some  kind  of  a  feather  ornament  of 
them,  and  hang  it  up  in  the  cabin,  my  dear,  for  a 
mascot.  For  if  there's  any  meaning  at  all  in  a 
'  murdered '  albatross  (which  same  I  gravely 
doubt)  it  means  that  when  you've  been  wrecked 
in  a  hurricane  out  on  the  Mozambique  channel, 
you  get  into  Port  Louis  with  all  hands  alive  and 
unhurt!  Eh,  Russell?" 


THE  CAPTAIN. 

THE  Captain  does  not  always  talk  in  the  jargon 
of  the  fo'c's'le.  In  fact  it  might  be  said  he  uses 
it  merely  when  he  "  spins  a  yarn  "  in  order  to  be 
more  realistic.  He  talks  with  his  family,  his 
friends  at  home  and  his  townspeople  like  any 
well-educated  man  whose  school-days  are  far 
behind  him,  but  who  has  learned  more  of  men 
and  things  from  cruising  about  the  world  than  any 
books  could  teach.  So  this  last  chapter  shall  be 
told  in  the  every-day  language  he  commonly  uses 
when  in  port  among  his  fellow-men. 

There  are  several  anecdotes  of  himself  that  the 
Captain  has  forgotten  to  relate.  Perhaps  he  did 
not  think  them  of  sufficient  importance,  but  I  do, 
and  so  will  you  when  I  have  told  them  as  they 
were  told  to  me. 

The  Captain,  like  many  another  old  salt,  loves 
dearly  his  country's  flag,  though  he  does  not  say 
much  about  it.  But  he  has  carried  it  into  too 
many  strange  countries  and  welcomed  the  sight  of 
it  like  a  friend  from  home  in  too  many  foreign 
ports  not  to  be  fond  of  it. 

Though  he  never  went  to  war  he  had  an  oppor 
tunity  to  defend  the  flag  when  it  was  insulted  in 
an  alien  country. 


THE    CAPTAIN.  229 

The  Captain  used  to  tell  us  this  story.    He  said: 

"  I  was  seated  one  day  beneath  the  shade  of 
some  great  trees  in  front  of  an  hotel  in  St. 
Helena  with  two  other  American  captains. 

"  It  was  very  hot  and  the  streets  were  almost 
deserted.  Nobody  seemed  to  be  about.  We  sat 
there  quietly  enjoying  ourselves,  when  we  saw 
three  burly-looking  sailors  coming  up  the  street. 

"  They  belonged  on  a  large  English  ship  that 
had  just  anchored  in  the  harbor.  They  were 
rough-looking,  and  evidently  meant  to  make 
trouble  for  somebody  if  they  could. 

The  United  States  consul's  office  was  exactly 
opposite  us,  and  of  course  our  flag  was  flying  from 
a  tall  staff  in  front. 

"  When  the  sailors  came  up  to  it,  they  began 
to  call  out  in  derision,  insulting  the  stars  and 
stripes.  Then  they  cast  off  the  halyards  and 
hauled  it  down,  cursing  in  the  vilest  language  the 
6  bloody  Yankee  flag/  as  they  called  it,  and 
wrapping  it  about  themselves,  trailing  it  in 
the  dust. 

" '  We  could  stand  it  no  longer,'  said  the 
Captain.  '  We  felt  it  was  time  we  took  a  hand. 
So  when  they  began  to  pitch  into  the  consul's 
clerk,  who  came  out  to  try  to  rescue  the  flag,  we, 
too  laid  hold  of  them  and  a  general  fight  ensued. 


230  THE    CAPTAIN. 

"  <  We  did  not  intend  to  hurt  the  men,  but  we 
did  mean  to  hold  them  until  the  police  came. 

"  '  I  had  my  man  down  and  was  holding  him 
with  both  hands  when  he  reached  up  and  grabbed 
my  long  whiskers.  He  had  me  then  completely 
at  his  mercy.  I  could  not  release  myself. 

" '  The  clerk  ran  out  of  the  office  to  relieve  me, 
and  in  trying  to  strike  down  the  hands  of  the  man 
beneath  me  he  gave  me  a  severe  blow  over  my 
eye  with  an  ebony  ruler.  It  was  so  sore  I  had 
to  stay  in  my  room  for  several  days. 

" '  The  sailors  were  arrested  and  fined  three 
pounds  each.  Their  captain  paid  their  fine  and 
the  police  put  them  on  board  their  ship. 

" '  We  found  out  afterwards  that  they  came  on 
shore  with  the  intention  of  making  a  '  row '  and 
getting  shut  up,  hoping  their  captain  would  go 
without  them  ;  but  you  see  their  plan  did  not 
succeed/  ' 

It  was  during  the  war  of  1863  that  the  Captain 
was  at  St.  Helena,  and  he  was  one  day  on  shore 
dining  at  the  hotel.  There  were  a  number  of 
ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the  party.  Several  of 
the  latter  were  captains  of  American  ships  that 
lay  in  port. 

The  Captain  said : 

"  A  large  English  ship  had  just  anchored  in  the 
harbor,  and  her  Captain  came  ashore  to  take  dinner. 


THE    CAPTAIN.  231 

"  He  evidently  had  left  his  good  manners  aboard 
ship,  for  he  entered  the  room  in  a  blustering 
manner,  ignoring  the  ladies  present,  and  seated 
himself  near  the  head  of  the  table  and  began  to 
talk  to  an  English  officer  who  was  one  of  the 
guests,  about  our  Civil  War,  asking  questions  in 
a  most  offensive  manner. 

"  We  were  all  feeling  very  much  pleased  over 
the  news  of  victory  we  had  received  and  some  one 
began  to  tell  the  captain  of  Sherman's  march  to 
the  sea. 

"  The  English  captain,  whom  we  afterwards 
learned  was  one  of  England's  naval  reserves, 
spoke  up  in  a  loud  and  boasting  tone,  saying, 
( Well,  sir,  we  will  go  over  and  heip  the  South 
erners  whip  the  Yankees  when  we  get  back  to 
England/ 

"  Captain  Kelley,  an  American  and  a  man  of 
small  statue,  was  sitting  near  me,  and  I  noticed 
his  temper  was  rising.  He  could  not  sit  still  in 
his  chair.  As  the  English  captain  went  on  with 
his  boisterous  and  blustering  talk,  he  jumped  to 
his  feet,  pushed  up  his  coat-sleeves,  looked  the 
Englishman  full  in  the  face,  and  said,  '  It  is  not 
necessary  for  you  to  wait  to  whip  Yankees.  Come 
out  into  the  street  and  I  will  give  you  a  chance, 
for  I'm  a  Yankee.' 


232  THE    CAPTAIN. 

"  Kelley  was  about  one-half  the  size  of  the 
Englishman,  who  looked  thoroughly  ashamed. 
He  made  a  lame  sort  of  an  apology  and  left  the 
house.  He  got  his  supplies  on  board  that  very 
afternoon  and  sailed  that  night,  so  we  never  saw 
him  again." 

"How  did  I  happen  to  be  in  St.  Helena?" 
said  the  Captain. 

"It  happened  this  way.  We  lay  in  the  harbor 
of  Mauritius  two  months  repairing  damages,  and 
getting  new  masts,  rigging  and  sails;  but  we 
couldn't  get  a  whaling  boat. 

"  My  crew  were  deserting  and  good  men  were 
hard  to  obtain  in  that  quarter,  so  as  soon  as  my 
sails  were  ready,  I  put  to  sea  and  finished  rigging 
her.  If  any  whales  had  come  in  sight  we  couldn't 
have  taken  them,  as  we  had  only  one  boat. 

"After  being  a  month  at  sea>  we  spoke  the 
Plover,  another  whaler,  and  got  one  old  boat 
from  her.  So,  having  now  two  boats,  we  suc 
ceeded  in  capturing  two  whales. 

"  At  the  end  of  six  months  we  put  into  Port 
Louis  and  found  four  new  whale-boats  had  been 
sent  us.  But  we  were  in  as  bad  a  condition  as 
before,  for  now  we  had  plenty  of  boats  and  no 
crew  to  man  them. 

"  We  went  to  the  Seychelle  Islands  and  there  I 
shipped  nine  men.  We  cruised  in  the  Indian 


THE    CAPTAIN.  233 

Ocean  for  two  years,  with  poor  success,  so  I 
decided  to  head  the  bark  homeward.  We  had 
fine  weather  round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and 
steered  straight  for  the  Island  of  St.  Helena, 
where  we  stayed  two  weeks,  so  I  had  a  chance  to 
see  all  there  was  in  that  noted  place." 

St.  Helena  lies  in  the  track  of  all  vessels  bound 
from  Cape  of  Good  Hope  to  the  United  States. 

"  You  know,  perhaps,  that  the  island  is  twenty- 
eight  miles  in  circumference,  and  is  in  latitude 
15°  55"  South,  longitude  5°  42"  West.  It  rises 
up  out  of  the  sea  like  a  great  tower  on  the 
horizon.  You  can  see  it  forty  miles  away,  a 
great  blur  in  the  distance,  on  a  clear  day.  As 
the  vessel  approaches  it,  Dana's  peak,  2,700  feet 
high,  is  first  seen  above  the  clouds. 

"  The  island  has  good  anchorage  on  the  north 
side  abreast  of  Jamestown. 

"I  took  my  family  on  shore  and  we  visited 
many  parts  of  the  island  and  all  the  places  that 
are  of  world-wide  interest  on  account  of  their 
connection  with  the  great  Napoleon.  The  Briars, 
where  he  lived  while  Longwood  Old  House  was 
being  prepared  for  him,  was  occupied  by  my 
esteemed  friend,  George  Moss,  Esq.  It  is  situ 
ated  on  a  plateau  at  the  foot  of  the  hills  and 
has  a  fine  garden.  It  is  surrounded  by  wild  and 


234  THE    CAPTAIN. 

rocky  scenery.  The  Briars  has  always  been  kept 
as  it  was  when  Napoleon  lived  there.  In  one  of 
the  rooms  it  is  said  that  he  gave  the  dictation  to 
'  Las  Casas.' 

"  Longwood  Old  House  was  originally  a  farm 
house,  but  verandas  were  added  and  the  place 
otherwise  improved.  After  Napoleon's  death  the 
house  fell  into  a  state  of  dilapidation. 

"  Longwood  New  House  was  built  for  Napoleon, 
but  he  never  lived  in  it.  It  is  a  one-storied  build 
ing,  and  has  fifty-six  rooms  of  various  sizes. 

"  It  is  pleasantly  situated  in  the  Eastean  part  of 
the  island,  1,760  feet  above  the  sea. 

"Another  interesting  building  is  St.  Paul's 
church,  in  whose  graveyard  are  buried  many 
strangers  who  have  died  on  the  island. 

"  Jamestown  is  in  a  valley  between  two  lofty 
hills  and  is  a  picturesque  spot,  with  roads  winding 
up  the  hills  on  each  side. 

"  Ladder  Hill  is  600  feet  high,  and  is  crowned 
with  a  strong  fort  with  barracks  for  a  regiment  of 
soldiers. 

"  If  one  wishes  to  ascend  it  he  may  go  by  the 
road  which  winds  up  the  sides  of  the  hill,  or, 
curiously  enough,  by  a  long  ladder  with  365 
steps,  which  reaches  from  the  town  at  the  bottom 
to  the  fortress  at  the  top." 


THE    CAPTAIN.  235 

Tell  us  some  of  your  adventures  while  there, 
Captain. 

"Yes,  I  think  I  have  given  you  geography  and 
history  enough.  But  it  is  pleasant  for  me  to 
remember  I  have  been  in  the  very  rooms  where 
the  great  Napoleon  planned  and  thought  and 
regretted  his  life  away. 

"  Our  adventures  ?  Well,  here's  one.  The 
very  first  day  we  went  ashore  we  had  dinner  in 
Smith's  hotel.  While  we  were  eating,  down  came 
the  walls  over  our  heads  covering  us  with  plaster. 

"  No,  it  wasn't  an  earthquake,  but  the  work  of 
the  white  ant  which  eats  up  the  woodwork  of  the 
houses  and  down  they  fall  when  least  expected. 
I  tell  you,  it  is  dangerous.  So  some  of  the 
dwellings  are  made  of  teak  wood  and  the  ware 
houses  of  iron,  both  indestructible  by  this  pest. 

"  We  had  many  drives  about  the  island,  visiting 
Napoleon's  grave  and  drinking  from  the  spring 
near  Longwood,  where  he  walked  every  day  as 
long  as  he  was  able.  It  is  a  pleasant  spot,  cool 
and  shady  from  the  overhanging  willow  trees. 

"  Pleasant  as  was  our  stay  in  St.  Helena,  after 
our  long  ocean  voyage,  we  were  glad  to  point  the 
bow  of  our  vessel  homeward. 

"  Yet  we  were  troubled  greatly  by  rumors  we 
had  heard  of  the  Confederate  cruisers,  always 


236  THE    CAPTAIN. 

ready  to  pick  up  vessels  belonging  to  the  North, 
and  we  kept  a  good  watch  out,  I  assure  you,  for 
such  cruisers. 

"  North  of  the  Bermudas  we  saw  traces  of  the 
foe  in  the  shape  of  an  abandoned  hull,  her  masts 
gone,  and  bearing  the  marks  of  fire.  We  ran 
near  enough  to  hail  her,  but  no  one  was  on  board. 

"  At  last  we,  too,  ran  into  danger.  When  only 
fifty  miles  south  of  Nantucket  Shoals,  our  lookout 
sighted  a  steamer  two  points  off  our  lee  bow.  I 
went  aloft,  fearing  the  worst.  My  fears  were 
confirmed  when  I  made  her  out  to  be  a  long, 
rakish,  bark-rigged  steamer,  standing  across  our 
bows  and  heading  towards  the  north. 

"  I  was  sure  we  were  lost.  But  we  had  suffered 
all  kinds  of  perils  and  were  to  be  spared  this.  For 
a  large  ship  had  been  in  sight  of  us  all  day  about 
eight  miles  to  the  windward,  steering  in  the  same 
direction  that  we  were. 

"  She  was  a  richer  prize  than  we  would  be,  and 
we  saw  through  our  glasses  the  steamer  overhaul 
her  and  send  a  boat  to  board  her. 

"  It  was  about  sunset  when  this  happened.  So 
we  clapped  on  all  sail,  put  out  our  lights  and 
sailed  away,  fearing  lest  the  steamer  should  take 
us  ;  but  the  next  day  it  was  thick  and  foggy,  and 
we  saw  the  steamer  no  more. 


THE    CAPTAIK.  237 

"  About  thirty  miles  south  of  No  Man's  Land 
we  fell  in  with  a  fleet  of  fishing  vessels  and  gave 
them  a  great  fright,  for  they  thought  we  were  the 
enemy. 

"  "When  we  lowered  a  boat  to  go  alongside  of 
them,  we  could  see  them  pulling  in  their  lines  to 
try  to  escape  us. 

"  But  we  soon  convinced  them  we  were  all 
right,  and  exchanged  some  of  our  salt  pork  for 
a  fine  mess  of  fresh  mackerel.  They  told  us  how 
the  land  bore,  and  the  next  morning,  June  25,  at 
five  o'clock,  we  came  to  anchor  off  Butler's  flat  in 
the  lower  harbor,  New  Bedford. 

"  We  had  left  St.  Helena  on  the  first  of  May, 
and  it  was  just  three  years  and  eleven  months 
since  we  had  sailed  from  home  on  what  proved  a 
long,  disastrous  and  unfortunate  voyage. 

"We  had  suffered  from  a  severe  hurricane, 
losing  our  boats,  which  were  not  replaced  for 
nearly  a  year. 

"  Our  officers  and  crew  had  deserted  us,  which 
completely  spoiled  our  plans. 

"  Yet  our  ship  was  new  and  well-provisioned, 
and  we  were  so  far  from  home  we  could  not  return. 

"  We  had  seen  whales  enough  to  overload  us 
with  oil,  but  we  could  not  capture  them  because 
we  had  not  men  enough  to  do  it. 


238  THE    CAPTAIN. 

"  Yet,  when  we  got  home,  oil  was  so  high  that 
what  we  had  brought  a  good  price,  so  our  voyage 
was  a  paying  one,  after  all. 

"  Oh,  I  must  tell  you  that  we  found  out  after 
we  got  ashore  the  vessel  that  we  saw  captured 
was  the  Isaac  "Webb  of  New  York,  and  that  after 
catching  her,  the  steamer  tried  to  find  us,  but 
thanks  to  the  fog  and  our  good  fortune,  she  was? 
unsuccessful." 


A  TYPICAL  WHALEMAN. 

Captain  Charles  Bobbins,  who  passed  over  the  other  day 
at  the  age  of  81,  was  an  American  down  to  the  feet — 
Lemuel  Bobbins  his  father,  and  Rachel  Bobbins  his  mother. 
The  former  died  when  Charles  was  nine  years  old,  and 
the  boy  parted  with  school  at  the  age  of  twelve,  for  there 
were  nine  sisters  and  two  brothers  to  be  supported.  At 
that  age  the  boy  sought  an  opportunity  to  ship,  but  he 
was  declared  by  the  agents  to  be  too  young,  and  he  worked 
at  the  lever  of  the  old  hand  press  in  The  Mercury  office 
and  carried  papers  for  three  years.  When  he  was  fifteen, 
however,  he  shipped  on  the  ship  Swift,  without  his 
mother's  knowledge,  although  she  subsequently  gave  her 
consent.  The  ship  was  to  sail  February  1,  but  the  vessel 
was  frozen  in  at  the  dock.  Fearing  desertions,  the  captain 
ordered  the  men  to  saw  a  channel  through  the  ice,  and  for 
ten  days  she  was  frozen  in  off  Clarks  Point  with  the 
lonesomest  boy  in  the  world  on  board. 

At  length  the  ship  sailed  away  in  February,  1837,  and 
thereafter  Bobbins  lived  more  stories  than  all  the  writers 
could  invent.  He  visited  isles  of  the  Pacific  which  civili 
zation  had  never  touched.  In  proof  of  the  claim  that  he 
encountered  the  heathen  in  his  utter  blindness,  the  captain 
used  to  affirm  that  not  only  were  they  cannibals,  but  that 
they  had  no  knowledge  of  any  kind  of  intoxicating  liquor. 
It  was  August,  1841,  after  an  absence  of  fifty-four  months, 
before  the  boy  came  back.  He  went  away  a  stripling, 
weighing  ninety-six,  and  when  he  came  home  he  weighed 
one  hundred  and  sixty,  and  had  to  be  introduced  to  his 
sisters. 


240  A  TYPICAL  WHALEMAN. 

He  received  one  hundred  dollars  and  a  suit  of  clothes 
for  four  and  a  half  years'  work  and  in  a  few  weeks  he 
sailed  again,  this  time  as  boatsteerer  on  the  Balaena.  He 
was  gone  nearly  four  years,  adding  to  the  store  of  novel 
experiences  which  filled  his  life.  While  cruising  down 
the  line  one  day,  his  vessel  picked  up  a  canoe  containing 
eight  persons,  Kanakas,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  royal 
family  of  Ascension.  There  had  been  a  revolution  and 
the  king  and  queen  and  princes  had  been  cast  adrift  lit 
erally  as  well  as  practically.  The  Kanakas  did  these 
things  a  century  ago,  more  humanely  than  the  enlightened 
nations  of  the  earth,  exampli  gratia,  Servia  now  rid  them 
selves  of  their  rulers.  One  of  the  princes  had  a  wound 
in  his  shoulder  where  a  shark  had  seized  him  when  he 
jumped  overboard  to  capture  it  for  food. 

The  ship  took  eighteen  hundred  barrels  of  sperm  this 
voyage,  and  when  the  captain  reached  home  he  married. 
Two  months  later  he  was  at  sea  again  as  mate  of  the 
Balaena.  On  the  Peru  grounds  small  pox  broke  out  on 
board  the  ship,  and  several  of  the  crew  died.  Bobbins  had 
a  light  attack  of  the  disease,  and  finally  left  the  ship  at 
Payta  and  reached  home  after  a  year  and  a  half  to  greet 
his  wife  and  sail  again  in  a  few  weeks  as  mate  of  the  bark 
Hope.  To  the  Indian  Ocean  he  sailed  this  time  and  was 
gone  two  years  and  a  half.  Arriving  home  in  May,  1850, 
he  sailed  four  or  five  months  later  as  master  of  the  same 
vessel.  He  was  gone  thirty  months  on  this  voyage.  His 
next  voyage  as  master  of  the  bark  Elisha  Dunbar,  was  a 
broken  one,  and  he  returned  ill,  but  sailed  again  in  the 
Clara  Bell  and  added  thirty  months  more  to  his  life  on 
the  ocean  wave. 

In  1859  Captain  Bobbins  sailed  in  command  of  the  bark 
Thomas  Pope  on  a  four  years'  voyage,  and  this  time  he 


A  TYPICAL  WHALEMAN. 


241 


took  his  wife  and  children  with  him.     The  vessel  was 
struck  by  a  hurricane  in  the  Mozambique  channel,  her 
masts  were  torn  out,  the  mizzen  mast  tearing  out  the  sky 
light  so  that  the  water  rushed  into  the  cabin.     The  ves 
sel  lay  on  her  beam  ends,  and  the  captain's  wife  and  htt. 
children  clung  to  the  weather  side.     An  officer  fell  on 
his  knees  and  prayed  for  the  safety  of  his  wife  who  was 
at  home.    Since  his  wife  was  safe  and  sound  ashore,  Mrs. 
Bobbins  suggested  it  would  be  more  to  the  purpose  to  pray 
for  those  about  him  who  were  in  extremity.     When  the 
storm  abated,  jury  masts  were  rigged  and  the  cripple 
ship  drifted  into  Mauritius.     All  the  whaleboats  were  lost 
and  none  could  be  procured  nearer  than  New  Bedford 
So  the  ship  waited  nine  months  for  the  boats.     A  child 
was  born  to  Captain  Bobbins  on  this  voyage.       So  t 
story  runs.     Once  his  ship  was  struck  by  a  meteor.     At 
another  time  he  was  for  months  in  a  leaking  ship, 
day  a  bomb  gun  exploded  and  tore  the  mate's  hand, 
to  "the  shifts,  Captain  Bobbins  amputated  it  and  subs 
quently  was  complimented  by  a  professional  surgeon  upoi 

doing  a  skillful  job. 

We  but  touch  upon  the  continued  hazards,  here  an 
there,  to  remind  this  generation  of  the  men  who  i 
a  historv  which  thrills  the  world. 

And  what  manner  of  man  was  Captain  Bobbins,  whom 
we  bring  to  mind  as  a  type  of  the  New  Bedford  whaleman? 
That  he  was  a  courageous,  valorous  man,  a  man  of  hardy 
daring  we  need  not  say,  but  withal,  he  was  a  gentle, 
kindly,  conscientious  Godfearing  man,  excelling  in  char 
acter  It  is  the  combination  of  these  qualities  wine 
makes  it  our  especial  pride  to  cherish  the  example  < 

veterans  of  the  sea. 

Z(.    W.    -t. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


ITOVZ  4i%y  i  5 

p^C'D  LD    N 

)V  11  '69  -1PM 

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4  73  -3PM  g  0 

1   \J     \J 

LD21A-60m-6,'69 
(J9096slO)476-A-32 


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